


Up and Down

by Sharonfofaron



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Sam drake x reader - Freeform, Samuel Drake x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-05-23 09:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 48,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharonfofaron/pseuds/Sharonfofaron
Summary: A cute story about a gorgeous girl who's unknowingly blowing away the Uncharted men.You're a restaurant hostess who also works as a shark diver down in South Africa. Three intriguing men come into the restaurant--friends of your boss, Jameson--and slowly begin to change your life forever (one man in particular).Sam Drake has always had his way with women, and been able to flirt as easily as pouring honey out of a jar. But now he's very, very off his game...Lots of adorableness, a slow-burn romance, cameos from almost all of the other Uncharted characters, some action, some adventure, some treasure-hunting, some violence, some mention of rapes and/or drugs in the past. This is my first one, and I'm really excited!!Sam, sigh <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [An Unexpected Calling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001511) by [Sharonfofaron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharonfofaron/pseuds/Sharonfofaron). 



> (Sam's thoughts are separate lines and in parentheses, like this!)
> 
> Warning: Some swearing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shark-diving portions are inspired by the movie Dark Tide, which is worth a watch. In that movie, there are abalone poachers who try to dive to Seal Island at night, & Halle Berry's character does need a person to be her "safety" & dive with her off the coast of South Africa.
> 
> This isn't a specific town in South Africa. I just know that there are sharks there, and Nadine's from there so it was on my mind! Enjoy!

Up and Down

The little cafe was bustling at this time of day, and as the hostess it was your job to graciously and elegantly bring people to their seats. The place might have been a small establishment, located on the piers and docks of this remote South African town, but your boss, Jameson, (who had retired from marine salvage, and whose boredom and love for food had prompted him to subsequently open this small, but classy, American-comfort-food-oozing place) liked to insist on making the place stand out as a location slightly more fancy than others. As the hostess, it was your task to do that--and a large portion of that, you knew, was based on how you looked. As Jameson was often reminding you guiltily, feminism did take a few steps back with the need for a pretty hostess in a classy little cocktail dress--but you understood how the world worked, and for the most part you were fine with it. You liked to look nice, and you knew that your long legs and thin, athletically-curved body lent you a certain "svelteness". Many times you'd been asked to model, and occasionally you'd done it; but the lecherous photographers always made you feel self-conscious, and you couldn't shake the feeling that it was a waste of your time and efforts when you could be doing something better with your day. 

So, now you alternated your time between two tasks: hosting at the restaurant, where you got to meet people and chat (you were more of a talker than you'd ever thought, since your sisters had always been the ones to chat up a storm) and heading out on your boat to study the sharks that populated the South African coast (a job that balanced the restaurant with a little silence). It was a solo job now, but you had used to do it with your two sisters. The sharks were in trouble, due to overfishing, and so were many of the people who were unfortunate enough to encounter them. Studying the sharks' behavioral patterns and submitting your research was allowing more and more people, hopefully, to understand sharks every day. Young, foolish boys would try to swim out to Seal Island at night--the most dangerous time in the water--to poach abalone, and you'd taken it upon yourself a few years ago to patrol in your boat every night, looking for the telltale glimpse of their waterproof flashlight and listening quietly for the slap of their flippers. They almost always had to be forcibly saved, unless a shark was actually close to them; but their parents were always grateful to you--even if the boys in town hated you for it. You had several faint scars on your torso, and a few on your legs, from the rescues that required you to actually dive in the water with only a speargun and pull them out. Jameson had often chided you for being so reckless, while simultaneously admiring you for being so brave; diving into pitch-black waters in an area teeming with great whites was no small thing, and he knew that you weren't stupid enough to be anything but scared. But when someone was in trouble, you couldn't quite explain the power of the drive that surged forward within you and propelled you into situations. You were a rescuer, through and through, perhaps because your sisters had needed it so much...

You also had many rough scars on the outside of both your upper arms, but those were from something else. Something that you did NOT think about. 

Today you were wearing a lovely little burgundy lace dress, one that you'd tailored to fit your body perfectly (it paid to know a little bit about tailoring, turned out), with matching high heeled-pumps and your long hair in a simple little half-up-do. You'd even been bold enough to match a burgundy lipstick; it was fun to dress up, since most of the day was spent in a sleek wet-suit and a simple ponytail. Aside from the "pretty hostess" that many of the regulars unofficially came to see, dark teak wood tables and a fairly low lighting was all that it really took to make the place seem more upscale--and Jameson kept his prices low, knowing the value that American travelers would place on cheap, but delicious, food from their home. As an American himself, he appreciated it more than anyone (you yourself had an American accent, although yours was New England; you'd worked hard to completely eradicate the other one, and only Jameson knew about it). Initially, you'd been surprised that Jameson seemed so confident about the "American travelers" that would constantly come swarming to this place during their international travels; but as it turned out, Jameson ran in certain less-than-legal circles (something that you had absolutely no problem with). This wasn't the sketchiest town in the world, but it was rough enough that a knowledge of guns, combat, and no small amount of tact had become crucial for you--and Jameson's clientele certainly made that the case, too. You kept your distance, but kept an ear open to hear about all the goings-on in those illegal circles; Jameson's friends were usually working in the treasure-hunting business, which was among the more savory of illegal businesses, so you liked to hear about it. Not to mention you found history and piracy fascinating, as anyone associated with marine life probably would. For a while you'd even dabbled in underwater archaeology, since your diving skills (and deep-sea-diving skills) were both top-notch. 

Recently Jameson had seemed more excited than usual; as it turned out, a friend of his named Nathan was coming to visit. Apparently it had been a while since they'd seen each other, and Jameson seemed absolutely thrilled at the prospect of a reunion. From what you had gathered, Nathan had taken up the marine salvage business where Jameson left off, but had expanded it to include more international--and, you'd surmised, LEGAL--jobs. Although you doubted that "illegal" was off this Nathan's description list. No one who said they were completely out of the game really was, at least not in this town and with this crowd.

Earlier this afternoon, after you'd come in from a dive and arrived dressed for work, Jameson greeted you with a big smile. You smiled back, laughing.

"They're coming in today, aren't they."

Jameson's smile widened. 

"Why yes they ARE, Miss (Y/N/)." His slow, Southern voice always made you feel at ease; in many ways, Jameson was a surrogate father to you nowadays. "Now when they get here, you make sure to put 'em right here, at this table"--he gestured to the one in the back nearest the bar and the back door--"so I can have them all to myself and get some conversation in without actually working." 

You laughed again and nodded, turning to head back to restaurant's main doors. "Whatever you say, Jameson."

Two hours later, you were in the thick of it. The place was teeming with regulars lounging on the tables outside overlooking the water and the indoor tables were filled with travelers who wanted out of the sun. Oftentimes those who came indoors were specifically seeking quiet spots to do "business", but tonight there was no one who seemed to be in the business mood. Drinks were being passed all around, entrees from the beefsteak to the lasagna to the mac and cheese were being heartily devoured, and the air was filled with chatter. You were good at gauging the tone of an atmosphere, and tonight it was one of relaxed, slightly tipsy camaraderie and jovial pairings. A good night for Jameson's friends to arrive, you mused to yourself as you strode confidently through the restaurant, leading another group to their table. It was nights like this that made you feel great; being in the thick of things, but being in your stride, accomplishing a long-practiced task and feeling great at it. 

Not to mention looking great, if the appreciative glances of the night had been anything to go by--but it was Jameson who noticed those, not you (he liked to keep an eye on you, for your safety. Criminals couldn't always be trusted not to follow a girl home, after all). You had a tendency not to notice men's flirty gazes, and you were just all-around nice to everyone, whether they were a man who was having no luck flirting with you or a little old lady who accidentally thought you were her daughter once in a while. Most of the men here had accepted that casual flirtations with you were all they'd get; anything more was like talking to a brick, burgundy-lipped wall. So instead, they just decided that you were nice to look at. 

Since the place wasn't huge, it took you only a moment to return to the front door, where three men were waiting--and all attractive. There was little that fazed you on the job, though, so you just hit them with your usual big, happy smile--and, judging by their widened eyes and growing smiles, they were reacting to your positive greeting in much the same way as all men here did. Even old Terry lit up when he heard you coming, and he was blind. You once again marveled internally at the simple powers of a smile--although little did you know that it was all the rest of your body, too, that made men react. 

Your walk confident, you strode right up to the man in the middle--a young, good-looking and strapping guy with blue eyes and scruffy brown hair. He looked a little roughed up, as did the other two, but that was, again, nothing that fazed you. Not in a place full of criminals, and certainly not in this part of South Africa. You held out your hand for a welcoming handshake, smiling still and already speaking as he dazedly raised his to meet yours, his eyes fixed on your face. You maintained eye contact and kept your handshake quick but kind, even though his hand remained limp as a wet noodle; meeting strangers was nothing new to you anymore, and you knew that eye contact was a simple but astoundingly effective way to instantly make anyone feel listened to and well-liked. 

"Hi, you must be Nathan. I recognize you from Jameson's pictures. He's asked me to set you up in the back so he can come see you later."

None of the boys responded instantly, and the place was busy, so you took it in stride and smoothly said "Follow me!" with a cheerful little chirp, turning to lead the way and trusting that they would follow. They did, looking not unlike zombies. 

You swiftly led them to their table, turning with perfect timing as they arrived behind you. 

"Here you go! And Jameson will be right over. He's been excited," you added laughingly to Nathan, touching his arm briefly as you passed back by them. Nathan's face turned bright red. You left them with one last happy little "Enjoy!" and a cute little wave before heading back through the crowd as smoothly as a fish through a reef. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All three stared after you, before slowly sitting down in chairs, wobbling a little as they did and all subconsciously choosing chairs that allowed them to look out over the restaurant for a certain someone. There was a comical period of silence while they all continued to stare, despite the fact that you were now around a corner and they were staring at an empty bit of soft ruby carpeting. Most people who walked by thought that the trio was staring at their shoes, and several of them not-so-surreptitiously checked their footwear moments later right before they sat down, convinced that Sam, Nathan, and Victor had seen some unforgivable scuff or muck. 

After far-too-long-a-moment, Sam and Victor spoke at the same time, their deep, gravelly voices melding together and their eyes still dazed. 

"Hoooooly SHIT, she's hot." 

Nathan was sitting on the left, and touched his own left arm delicately, eyes big and blue and face now red as a tomato. 

"She touched me," he whispered, awestruck, still staring with the others. 

There was silence again. Victor moved as if to lift his ever-present cigar to his mouth, but seemed to forget again instantly, and his arm fell back down to his side softly and slowly. Sam let out a little breath and an odd little "meep" sound, like a balloon deflating a tiny bit. 

"TWICE," Nathan whispered now, his hand moving to his cheek and temporarily transforming him into a delicate, dazzled princess. 

Jameson showed up then in the same direction that you had come from; he paused and opened his arms wide, a big smile stretching across his face. 

"Nathan!! My man. Finally you're here. And you-"

He noticed the complete lack of acknowledgement from the boys; Nathan, upon recognizing his friend's voice, slowly dragged his eyes away from the aisle to look at the friend now closer to him. Seeing the younger man's dazed expression and red face, and seeing the similar faces and wide eyes on the other two (who were even slower to end their stares), he suddenly opened up with a big belly laugh. 

"Let me guess. You boys just met (Y/N)." His knowing, mellow voice seemed to bring the boys a little further out of it--and their eyes all temporarily sharpened on him when he said your name. 

Still laughing, he sat down, choosing a chair that put his back to the restaurant since the other three men had all chosen ones that awkwardly faced the aisle and left a whole side open. "She's reeeeaaaally something, isn't she. And she's an absolute sweetheart to boot."

"She touched me," Nathan whispered again. 

Sam was still staring after you, but with a more serious expression on his face. His chest and stomach felt tight, clenched, like he couldn't breathe, and he let out another little bit of air through his mouth--a groan, though, not his oh-so-manly 'meep' from earlier. He shifted in his seat, straightening a little and leaning forward in an obvious effort to manually recalibrate his mind, and Victor followed his cue and did the same, finally remembering his cigar. He slowly moved it to his mouth--but still forgot to light it. Jameson's grin just grew bigger. 

"The three chattiest people I know, at a loss for words. Unbelievable." He shook his head slowly, smile still big and laugh still rumbling. "Or, in this case, believable actually. Y/N is one of a kind." 

"She touched me," Nathan whispered again, hand back to his cheek.

Sam grumbled, a little sound unbidden that emerged from his throat. 

"You already said that."

Nathan's eyes moved back to the aisle for a moment, holding his head in his hand and leaning forward. He replied dreamily, his voice sighing and higher than usual.

"You're just mad that she didn't touch YOU."

"Hell, I'M mad that she didn't touch me," Victor sidled into the conversation, shifting in his seat again, clearly not quite over your dazzle yet. His response cut off Sam, who was still finding it a little too hard to speak. No doubt his retort would have been weak, at best, he mused briefly--completely unlike him. 

"Well, if you boys need me to get her back over here I most certainly can." Jameson laughed again, quieter and deeper this time. "But how about you have some food and some drinks first, huh? Maybe you'll, uhhh, be able to speak some actual words this time."

Nathan blinked again, then again, and then finally seemed to focus more solidly on his friend. "Sorry, Jameson. I got-distracted. It's good to see you," he murmured, smiling a little tiredly as he leaned forward and hugged his friend warmly, holding on for a moment. Jameson was happy; Nathan always gave good hugs. Meaningful ones, like an actual hug for your heart. He hugged him back, then began standing up, stepping away from the table and back towards the hustle and bustle. His face creased with a little concern. 

"You boys hurt?" he asked, raising a hand to gesture at Nathan's slight bruises and the blood on Sam and Victor's shirts. It was a small amount of blood, nothing really in a place like this, but Jameson knew what these boys were here in town for, and he knew it had to have caused a fight. "I know you've got some big fish on your tail for this one, after all." 

Victor perked up a little, and finally seemed to remember that his cigar was unlit. He pulled it to his mouth now, speaking through the growing haze. Sam blinked at the smell, and reached for his cigarettes, grunting a little at the soreness in his ribs. 

"We sure do at that," Victor replied to Jameson grimly. "Got our heads knocked around a bit, but no harm done. Least, nothing that can't be fixed anyway. And she was probably the magic cure." He gestured with his cigar towards the restaurant's entrance around the bend of the wall nearest him. A little chuckle left his mouth as he lowered the cigar down a bit. 

"That she is," Jameson laughed again a little. "But you boys need anything? I've got medical kits galore in the back. And if Rafe comes in here--" 

"You just send him our way, Jameson," Sam grunted, finally finding his voice--even though it sounded a little like it had been scraped over sandpaper. "We'll be ready for round two."

"All right, just you don't go messing up my pretty little restaurant now. I've got a good thing going here," he added with a smile, turning and laughing before heading to the kitchen. "Food'll be out in a minute." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, you'd still been seamlessly hustling people in and out of the restaurant like clockwork. It was all clinking glasses and hearty laughs, and you whirled between the inner and outer restaurants like a dervish, casting contented glances at the beautiful ocean sunset along the way. This was what you loved, nights like this; and your beam spread everywhere you smiled. 

Jameson's trio would watch you whenever they got a glance--abruptly stopping their sentences to stare, not one of them too unaffected to even notice their own behavior--but your work mostly kept you at the front of the establishment. Two hours went by quickly in a place like this, and you loved when it was so busy. Your shift would be over shortly, and it would be time for patrol...your friend Lily was going to meet you at the docks today, and head out with you. It was Thursday, after all, and on Thursdays there was a particularly bullheaded boy who insisted on trying every week--and who presented enough of a challenge that an actual dive would be required. It would be suicide to dive off the coast of South Africa, at night, without a "safety", so another person always worked with you on nights like this. Usually it was Tara, or the newcomer Lily. Both women worked more on the actual marine-biologist side of things in general, and were only going to be here for part of the year this time. What you'd do when they had to leave, you didn't know; but for now, you had backup. 

You spun to avoid a waiter's tray delicately--your few years of ballet paying off--and headed back towards the bar. The crowds were winding down, but you could hear raucous laughter from the back--genuine, easy, loud laughter that meant someone was truly relaxed. By the sound of it, it was Jameson's friends, and you smiled to yourself, glad to hear that they were having a good time. No doubt the alcohol and mac and cheese had kicked in. 

"Y/N, come over here!" You heard Jameson call good-naturedly, and you grinned as you came around the bend. The laughter from before rapidly faded, as all three men proceeded to suddenly choke. Apparently they'd been mid-drink, you thought to yourself as you stepped around the table to pat the nearest man on the back. They'd rearranged for some reason--a game of cards, you saw now--and it was the other young brunette guy that you patted on the back. Oddly enough, to you, this patting only seemed to make the situation worse. He straightened immediately, letting out little huffs of a cough that was clearly uncompleted, and knocked on his chest once, solidly, with a strong fist. Worried, you bent over to look at him more closely, hearing that the other two's coughs had subsided. 

"Are you okay? You're awfully red..."

(Oh god, she's touching me she's touching me TOUCHING TOUCHING TOUCHING please stop touching me stop)

He raised a hand in mild protest and responded immediately in a deep voice--that is, eked out a response in a scratchy little mewl-- "G-good, I'm good-"

A laugh came from Jameson, and you saw that the coughing man's eyes shot up at his friend viciously for a moment and his jaw tightened before he bent over coughing again, your hand still on his back and his face getting rapidly redder. 

(please god stop touching me jesus christ)

"Water?" You handed him an almost-empty glass from the table, a little surprised. The waters were hardly ever drunk; people didn't want to take the buzz off of their alcohol. And none of Jameson's friends were the non-alcoholic kind, in any sense of the word. 

He took it and drank, straightening up against the chair and almost crushing your hand. You tugged it out at the last second, while Jameson quickly cut in (deciding, unbeknownst to you, to show poor Sam some mercy. Nathan and Victor were both just back to staring).

"He's all right, Y/N. It happens with smokers--speaking of which, for Samuel and Victor here--" he gestured to Sam and Victor, whose eyes were both on him now pensively, like students who really, really hadn't expected to be called on--

"You've still got some of that special lotion you made, right? For removing gunpowder stains from hands?"

The men's eyes moved to you tentatively. Now all three of them were blushing. 

"Yes," you said easily, smiling and moving towards the back of the restaurant. "And I've got some for cigarette stains, too." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam straightened further as soon as you left, letting his real cough out for a moment and then promptly grabbing Victor's full glass of water next to him and chugging it, little coughs coming out along the way. For once, Victor didn't scoff at him; he just watched Sam get his breath back and swallow, Jameson looking on bemusedly and Nathan continuing to watch you leave. 

"GodDAMNit," Sam muttered. 

(get a grip on yourself sam goddamit get a fucking grip)

(she's a girl, you've talked to girls before she's just a-)

But then you came back, and his brain froze again, glass half to his lips. 

You had a small knack for making ointments that you'd learned from your youngest sister; nothing like her ability, but enough to know a few recipes. And where you'd grown up, these two lotions had been particularly handy--just as they were a significant perk for many customers of this restaurant, considering their line of work. Jameson often jokingly called them "goodie bags", since you handed out little vials of the lotions so often.

You slid up to the table, five vials in your hands. This section of the restaurant was completely empty now, but you knew that Jameson's friends would be staying late and leaving with him whenever he closed up for the night--which, depending on the crowds and weather and his mood, could be anywhere from 8 pm to 6 am. 

Big smile still beaming across your face, you leaned forward and delicately placed the vials down on the table--two in front of the other two men, and one in front of Nathan, whose face was bright red again. (But not quite as red as his brother's, he'd notice later with some level of satisfaction.)

"Gunpowder-stain-remover for all three of you, so you don't have to share, and the cigar-stain one for you" you gestured elegantly to Victor with a smile, "and the cigarettes for you," you finished brightly, after placing the last one in front of Sam with a tiny little ceremonial flourish. You could see that he looked nervous, or stressed, or something, and were hoping that a little bit more of your smile and good cheer might ease his mind. Instead, his face just got redder and he looked anywhere but your face--so, mainly, the table. 

Poor guy. He probably didn't like coughing like that in front of everyone, you observed to yourself silently. Speaking of which-

"Oh!" and you stepped back around the bar and bent to grab some cough drops, unaware of your ass's subsequent rise in the air as your body dipped and the immediate increased heart rate of all three men in the near vicinity--not including Jameson, of course, who had the decency to look away and a lovely wife waiting for him back home. You promptly pivoted back around and placed the cough drops next to Sam's vials. "And these. Hope you feel better!" You threw him your biggest smile, hoping against hope that that would help too--instead you saw him gulp, enormously, and watched his faintly-visible Adam's apple bob up and down. Good grief, you thought, his throat really MUST hurt. Poor poor thing. He looked far more nervous now, and like his face was frozen. 

Deciding against helping any more--since it didn't seem to be working--you smiled at the boys and turned to Jameson. 

"It's that time of night again, Jameson. Did you need me for anything else?"

Jameson's brow suddenly furrowed, as he abruptly remembered where you were going. It was like this almost every night; he forgot until right before it was time for you to leave. 

"Tara's going with you, right?" 

"Lily this time, actually."

Jameson stood up, sighing. "She's not as experienced, Y/N, and it's a full moon tonight. Things get weird under full moons. AND it's Thursday; he'll be out there. You be CAREFUL."

In other careers it might have seemed suitable to wave off Jameson's concern with a good-natured scoff and an eye-roll; but you knew better. This was dangerous, and every night there was a chance that you might not come back. Besides, you liked having someone care about you. Although you did--ironically--worry that Jameson was worrying too much about you when you weren't even family. He'd lobbied hard to go out there with you, but you knew in your bones that he'd jump in the water without a doubt if you were in danger. And Jameson was no shark diver. 

For now, you let your somber thoughts show a little on your face and hugged him. "I will, Jameson, I promise I will. I'll text you the moment we're out of the water." This was the song and dance that they did every night, but it was one that comforted them both. 

"Be safe, Y/N."

You kissed his cheek lightly and stepped away, turning at the waist to wave back to the boys sweetly. "Bye, guys. Have a good night!"

Victor could do nothing but raise his cigar a little in greeting; Sam made some kind of meowing noise at you, it sounded like; and Nathan stared at you as if there was a halo over your head. What an odd bunch, you thought. But you liked them anyway. One last smile and you were gone--and one moment later you were out the door and Jameson could start laughing again.


	2. Chapter 2

The restaurant's lights flickered low, moving in time with the men's chuckles and the flips of the cards. There was no one left in the restaurant now; it was after 1 am, and Sam had finally decided to start to drink--which meant the party had actually begun. Sam was a fun drunk--even if tonight he was only buzzed. 

He reached for his now-empty glass again and Jameson spoke up over the remaining chuckles from the last nonsensical pirate joke. "Sam, why are you JUST getting started drinking now? You've been here for ages! Slowing down in your old age, man. Don't let me beat you." 

Nathan's brow twitched as he reached for his own glass. "Yeah, why AREN'T you drinking?" 

"Well, I am NOW," Sam said drily, with a raise of his glass towards his younger brother. 

Victor leaned back in his chair a little, a mischievous sigh leaving his lips. "I don't know, Sam, we've been here for hours. You trying to live longer or something?" 

Sam's only response was a smirk, which caused all three men to straighten like meerkats and stare at him. 

Leaned forward over his glass, Sam pretended not to see; but, never one for silence, he cracked, exploding backwards a little and his hands going up in exasperation, his voice coming out fast and exasperated. "I just didn't want to be DRUNK in front of her, okay? Is that so bad? What, is it back to prison now?" 

His posture relaxed a little once the other three men's reactions transformed into easygoing laughter, and his own dry chuckle joined them. Over the laughs, huddled together, the men all began talking at once. 

"She IS really hot," Nathan said. 

"Damn right she is," replied Victor, humming to himself before taking another pull on his cigar. 

"Like, sexiest thing in the WORLD hot." 

"Daaaaaamn fucking straight," Victor responded again with another happy hum, leaning further in for his drink. "Goddammit, if I wasn't a little younger. Don't suppose she likes older, more SOPHISTICATED gentlemen, Jameson?"

Jameson laughed and shook his head as he poured him another drink. "Truth be told, I don't know WHAT she likes, Victor. Never really got up the gumption to ask, what with her bein' so sweet and all. And she's got no idea she's like that, by the way. She just thinks people are in a weird mood when they stare at her."

"Wha-" Nathan stared at him, eyes growing bigger. "Really?"

"Swear to God," Jameson raised his hand in a mock oath, "she does! You got no idea how many times she's come up to me and asked why so-and-so did what-and-what. And every goddamn time it's because he's got a hard-on for her" -the men start laughing again- "and I gotta draw up some BULLSHIT excuse for why he's acting weird! God bless her, that girl has no idea, swear to GOD."

"She's a saint," Nathan said, staring off into the distance again. "That must be it. An angel, right, come down from heaven-"

"Well, she's the best I've ever seen," Victor conceded, leaning back for a stretch, cigar still in hand. "And I've seen some fine, fine women in my time. Tempted to get a picture with her just for proof." 

Sam laughed with the others, but quiet, and his cheekbones were tinged pink even in the dim light. Seeing this, Jameson started laughing harder. "You MEOWED at her, Sam. Do you realize that? God, the little noises you were making--heeheewhoooo" his little laugh dissolved into genuine, high, squeaky giggles, and the other two joined in. Sam's eyes got big and his hand went to his head, running back and forth over his own hair. "Fuck, are you serious? I did?" 

"Yeah you did!" Nathan and Victor responded back in tandem, roaring with laughter. Sam wanted to laugh, too, but couldn't quite find it in him. "Shit. Goddammit, she must think I'm a total headcase now." 

"Well, yeah," Jameson said plainly, but brightly. "You meowed." The other two were still laughing, sending mocking "meows" back and forth over the table to each other; Jameson, seeing the genuine stress in Sam's eyes and his fingers flexing around his drink, abruptly leaned forward and put an arm around the younger man's big shoulders. "Hey, don't sweat it. Really, Sam," he continued as Sam groaned, leaning back out of the one-armed hug to look at the man next to him, fingers still undecided about clutching his drink, "She's not gonna hold that against you. Y/N is NOT a scary girl. She's a nice girl. And men have done way worse than what you just did in her presence, all right, so don't worry. Y/N/'ll take it easy on you, and she's the type to forgive and forget. Seriously, man," he leaned back too and gently pushed Sam's drink out of his fingers, "she's cool." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on the boat with Lily that night, hearing the sounds of the seals hollering in a blistering cacophony of sounds. Not entirely musical--at least, not to some. Their bleats and huffs filled the air like some messed-up melody, or a chorus where everyone is mad at each other and refusing to get on the right rhythm. 

"Y/N, you want a drink?" Lily asked, standing on the starboard side and reaching into the cooler. 

"No thanks," you say with a smile. 

"You sure? We did great tonight!" 

We really had done great tonight, you thought to yourself for a second--before reaching over and accepting the beer. The same boy who always tried had tried once again--and this time, he'd upped his game, using some new deep-water kind of flashlight that was difficult to spot from the water's surface. He knew that the girls would have to actively dive underwater for long periods of time if they wanted to search for him, and that no one would be foolish enough to do that--and he'd almost been right. If he hadn't needed to come up for air, and Lily hadn't just happened to shine the spotlight at the correct moment, then that boy could be dead. Granted, she thought as she took her first sip of the beer, he probably wished THEY were. The boy was stubborn, yes, but he didn't actually have a death-wish. Abalone could be worth a lot, and for this particular boy that money would mean the world. You felt bad, and everyone in town wanted to help, too--but the boy's pride meant that he simply continued on his way with suicidal poaching attempts and vindictive comments at the girls who continued to forcibly rescue him. He was fortunate that there was no particular police force to be found; in a bigger place, he'd have already been in a juvenile detention center. And in the water for any longer, he'd almost certainly have been a goner. 

You let his insults wash off you as the beer flowed down your throat, and hopped up lithely to join Lily on the boat's little roof. Lily was nice, and you enjoyed having some girls to talk to while she and Tara were in town; people usually didn't stay in this town very often, so it was hard to maintain any close friends. There were some from....before, but you didn't contact them. Only for emergencies, that was the agreement. 

You talked and laughed for a while, mostly just about the normal things: marine research, secondhand shark stories, people who'd recently left town for bigger things... then you saw four men heading down the road bordering the pier, just a few hundred yards away. You loved that the restaurant was so close to your boat, since it made a commute easy during the day, but their appearance did remind you that you'd probably have to head home to your little apartment soon. Like most people here, your apartment was more for shelter and showers than anything else. But, unlike most people's, yours was actually just above the restaurant. Another easy commute, through the fire escape behind the building. 

The men were swaying, or...dancing, or something, she saw, and you thought you recognized one man's dance moves. Ah. Jameson. It must be his friends, you thought dimly, seeing one do some kind of body roll and another do what was probably supposed to be an abysmal running man....or maybe it wasn't supposed to be abysmal. 

Their laughs reached you and Lily, who stopped speaking to watch them. When they got close enough, Jameson looked up, spotted your figure, and pointed at you, then bent over laughing long, hard laughs. The other three men froze in place--or, as well as drunk people could suddenly stop moving--and the dock lights made it easy for you to see their big, big eyes. The oldest man, Victor she remembered, raised a hand awkwardly. The young one, Nathan's, mouth just stayed wide open, his face looking comically astonished, and the middle one...looked like his world was ending and his entire mind currently contained nothing but a groan. You looked at his face, and it instantly shifted from seeming despairing to becoming a tight, almost angry shell of what it was. You could see his jaw clenching from here; he looked like a chipmunk that was frozen in place, but rapidly nearing panic. 

What the fuck? You thought to yourself. What did I do?

Outwardly, you leaned back on your old reliable friends:smiling, and charm. You hopped down from the roof, beer in hand, wet-suit still donned, and gave them a little wave--the same as earlier, hoping it might jog their memories--and finished with a chipper little greeting. 

"Hi, boys! Having fun?"

Jameson was still laughing, and, unsure of what to do in the face of his obvious amusement (at what you could only guess...but your wet-suit felt like it was still on right, and you were pretty sure you didn't have seaweed or something stuck to your face). A glance at Lily confirmed that she, too, had no idea what he was laughing about, so you promptly shifted your eyes back to the men and put a smaller, but still friendly smile back on your face. The other men weren't doing anything but swaying--even though there was no breeze--and maintaining their now-seemingly-signature facial expressions, and it was beginning to make you nervous, so you stepped a little closer. 

"Jameson, are they...okay?"

"Y-yeah," Jameson panted between the last laughs, a few big chuckles still escaping and taking hold of his voice before he finally continued, "they're fine, Y/N. Just had too much to drink--ha---ha---and you--" he started to point up towards you, then over to the middle one, "he-he didn't want-you-t-to-HA!" Another laugh hit him. The middle one just looked mad now; he was glaring at the two older men since Victor had started to chuckle a little, too. Nathan was now slowly turning his head between the middle one--his brother, Jameson may have mentioned that at some point, she thought briefly--and you, his mouth still open just as ridiculously wide. But his older brother's body was turned out towards boats further down the pier, his head almost completely turned away from you. Your smile started to fray. Why was he mad at you? Had you done something wrong? Been a bad hostess? Did he not like the cough drops? Did the lotion not work--it always worked, but what if it didn't, what if you'd gotten it wrong even after all those times your sister had taught you--your sister--

You felt your throat tighten a little at the thought and tamped it down immediately, dropping pressure on it like an anvil in your mind. No more thoughts like that, Y/N. No more thoughts. Nope, no more. Done. 

Seeing your smile leave, the young one's mouth clamped shut for a second and he seemed to instantly sober up. "Sam-Sad-you're making her sad--" The voice was clearly supposed to be a whisper, but came out as more of a hiss with a yell. His hand clumsily hit his brother's lower back right next to him, missing his arm, and the middle one--Sam, supposedly--seemed to blink at that comment harshly, as if the dock lights were suddenly too much for him. His eyes darted up to your face, just for a second, so much like a guilty puppy that you wondered if you were actually supposed to be mad at him for something and had forgotten--but the second your eyes met, his face opened. Or, fell, in a way. It stopped being so tense, and he looked like he felt bad...concerned. You realized your face must be showing more than you meant, and quickly shut it down. Smoothly you slipped back into your smile and did another little wave, saying something innocuous about a good night and moving into the boat's little driver's area, pretending to move things around until they left. You could still hear Jameson laughing down the street. 

Lily jumped down to join you after they left.

"Who was THAT?" She asked, continuing before you could respond and stop fiddling with your fake work. "They were HOT. Even the old guy--I mean, not that I'm like that, but I bet he could still get it down on the dance floor-" She laughed at that, and you responded with your own genuine laugh. The old man did seem like he was smooth, and he was probably really fun to hang out with. You straightened up, grabbing your sandals and knapsack, as she continued.

"But those other two--they're really sexy." She whispered it as if they could hear. "Do you know them, or are they not the type to stick around?"

"No, they're friends of Jameson's," you replied easily, keeping tension out of your voice and casually slinging the pack over your left shoulder. "They're Americans. Nice, but drunk."

"Americans?" Lily lit up. "You and I could actually talk to some hot American guys who are our age and who aren't Jameson? You know, I actually miss hearing my own accent--even if it's "ugly"-" 

She continued talking as the two of you headed down the pier, separating when you reached the restaurant and called it a night. Those guys were cute, you thought to yourself as you headed up the fire escape to your apartment slowly, taking your time and enjoying the dark and the quiet. They seemed like they were having fun, too--until they saw you. You must have done something wrong. Can't please everyone, Y/N/, you tried to tell yourself as you prepared for bed--but repeating that mantra did absolutely nothing to ease your worries as you slipped under the sheets.


	3. Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
Last night  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
Sam's head was buzzing--buzzing like a bee, he thought, heheh--and he could hear Nate saying something hilarious about Victor, and suddenly there was music in his head, such good music such GREAT music that he couldn't help but dance and swirl his hips around. Who knew what face he was making, but who even cared...such GOOD music--Nate was doing the best running man he'd ever seen right next to him, what a brother--

(FUCK.)

The-the g-girl...up high....black cat-s-suit...ponytail....hips shining black as she shifts her body--

(FUCK. Don't be drunk. Goddamnit don't be drunk.)

"Hi boys! Having fun?" 

He pulled his face together-kind of...maybe...don't even look...

(STRAIGHT PLAY IT STRAIGHT LIKE COPS ARE HERE COME ON GODDAMNIT FUCKING SHIT SAM STRAIGHT PLAY IT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT)

"Jameson, are they...okay?"

(SAY NOTHING. SAY NOTHING. DON'T SAY NOTHING. NO, DO SAY NOTHING. SILENCE. SILENCE. SILENCE.)

He focused on his jaw, clamping his teeth together so tightly that he feared they would crack, staring at one particular wooden plank until he thought his head AND the plank would start to spin. 

He felt Jameson point at him, and the jaw clenched tighter, he moved his eyes a little to glare at his friend that bastard who was going to ruin this 

(JACKASS CAN'T YOU SEE I'M UNDERCOVER)

"he-he didn't want-you-t-to-HA"

(SHUT IT SHUT IT SHUT IT GOD)

A hand hitting his back made him flinch, and he heard Nate say his name-what little brother, what what's wrong-

"Sam-Sad-you're making her sad--"

( ..... )

( ..... )

(sad?)

(She's sad?)

He looked up at her then, and she did look sad. Really sad. But it was a second, like a flicker, and then she was smiling again and that made him feel like he was going to pass out--oh she left thank God--but--

(Sad?) 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day at the restaurant, Jameson was leaning over the bar rubbing his forehead and groaning. THIS was why he had stopped drinking with Nathan. It was all his fault...or maybe his own....or somebody else's....yes, somebody else's. Good idea. 

"Jameson?" 

He looked up, blinking, to see you standing across the bar, holding its edge delicately and looking at him with sympathy. Thank goodness you were a quiet one, because he couldn't take a yell. 

"Want some ibuprofen?"

Jameson laughed a little and held up a bottle behind the bar, still holding his head with the other hand. "Already done."

Things lapsed into silence again for a minute, and you seemed hesitant to continue. Jameson didn't seem to mind, or care, or even notice in the slightest. 

"Did you...have fun?" you asked tentatively, fingering the bar's marbled edges. 

Jameson let out a little chortle again. "I always do, with Nathan." 

"And the others? Did they have...fun?"

Jameson nodded. "Damn right they did. I know how to throw a party, for damn sure. But then again--" he did what could only be called a laugh-groan "maybe ask them today and see what they say." 

"Do you need me to cover for you this afternoon?" 

Jameson smiled, head in both hands now. "No, sweetheart, I'm a tough old nugget. I'm good, I'll be fine in a couple hours. Or-" he winced. "Make that a few. But hey-" he pointed one shaky finger at her, one eye open a little "Don't you tell Victor if it takes me longer than him to recover, now. Our secret." 

You laughed a little. The man did seem like more than a tough "nugget"; he seemed like tough rawhide, the good-quality kind. And he obviously didn't die easy, judging by his survival to old age in a more-than-hazardous field. "Okay." 

There was another pause; Jameson was too out of it to wonder why you were here so early after a late night, or why you were still hovering. 

You looked around the restaurant for a minute or two, visualizing it lively and filled with people like it had been last night. Some people liked the quiet of a closed restaurant during the day; to you, it felt like a place that was haunted, cold and empty. But tonight, it would hopefully return to being warm and full of life. 

Eventually, you spoke up again. 

"Are they...coming back tonight?"

Jameson nodded loosely, head still down. "Probably, unless they strike gold today." 

"Do you want me to...that is, or--maybe you can just show them in yourself tonight? I'll make sure their table's kept open," you offered, hoping that your statement hadn't raised alarms but seeing from his now-raising head that it clearly had. 

"What's the matter, Y/N, you don't like them?" He sounded surprised. You liked almost everybody, and they were a good bunch of guys. 

"No!" You were quick to respond, almost losing your professional little smile but holding on to it by a thread. "But I don't think the brother likes me, so maybe I shouldn't--"

Jameson looked at you shrewdly, and his eyes widened a little as you added the second sentence. He straightened up and came around the bar. 

"Y/N, you think that boy doesn't like you? I-" He held up his hands as if to say something, then closed his eyes quickly and took a bracing little breath. You'd seen him do this before, with the rare difficult patron--usually before he kicked them out on their ass. 

You tensed a little, but softened when you saw his sad smile and heard him clucking his tongue. 

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Don't worry about that, okay? You did a great job last night. Sam was just...under the weather. Really. You were amazing as always. No complaints, not a one. They all like you. They don't want another person to show them their table."

"But Jameson, they also don't NEED someone to show them their table anymore--"

"No, but I still think you should."

"What? Why--"

"So you can see that they LIKE you. You're good at your job, Y/N. You're the best, everybody says so. Now-" he took your arms gently. "How was last night's dive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, Sam was stretching in his cot in Jameson's spare room and letting out a long, drawn-out groan. He heard Nathan echo it beside him, and--after squinting his eyes open a little--saw Victor, up and spry and doing some kind of....was that tai chi? 

The prospect of such a sight was enough to motivate him to sit up--although his body almost made a convincing argument against it--

"Morning, boy-o," said Victor as Sam sat all the way up, leaning over his still-bent knees on the bed to stare at the man doing some kind of....

"What are you DOING?" he whispered, trying not to wake Nathan, who rolled over a little with a sleepy murmur. 

"I'm doing what keeps me bad-ass, boy-o. You speed these moves up and you've got yourself some martial arts. Nathan knows some, too." The older man spun gracefully in a slow circle, face serene, and Sam felt his mouth open in consternation. 

"Morning, guys," Nathan mumbled, snuggling into his pillow like he was eight. Sam smiled to himself; Nathan always did this, 'woke up' to say hi and then slept for another hour and a half. 

"Morning." He ruffled his brother's hair for a second, and Nathan's mouth twitched for a moment in a smirk before falling asleep. Only his big brother was allowed to do that. 

"Victor, how are you okay right now? My head feels like it's going to ACTUALLY split into two pieces." He groaned and leaned over, reaching for his two-strapped duffel bag to his right and fumbling in one of the pockets for medicine. 

"Years and years of practice, boy-o." 

Sam popped two pills in his mouth and took a swig from the almost-empty bottle on the floor next to him--the irony of the drink choice not being lost on him--and grimaced at the day-after taste of the beer. 

Beer.

Y/N had been drinking beer last night...they'd seen Y/N....she was sad--

"Remember anything from last night, Sam?" the ever-observant Victor asked, his eyes on Sam's now-far-off face and his voice careful. 

"Shit. Shit, yeah, we saw the drop-dead-gorgeous girl from yesterday and after all that I still ended up drunk in front of her" Sam bent back over and rubbed his head again. 

"You made her feel bad" Nathan mumbled, now under his pillow "or maybe WE made her feel bad. Either way she looked sad"

"And Jameson had the time of his life" Victor added with a small laugh, stretching down for a second before straightening and stretching towards the ceiling with a grunt. "Well, Jameson said she's a nice girl, I'm sure she won't care too much. And besides, we're out of here today anyway. Got months of treasure-hunting to bring to an end with a find, in case you two don't recall." 

"Oh, we do." Sam said faintly, and he shook his head once as if he could physically shake the thought of you out of his mind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Hours later, you were working your shift and trying to surreptitiously keep an eye out for the trio--it bothered you to have a negative review, even if Jameson insisted otherwise, and you were intent on conveniently being 'away from your post' when HE arrived so that they could make their way in alone and you could forget about him and why oh why he didn't like you--when a young, well-dressed man entered. He wore the same styles as many men who came into the restaurant, but there was something about his Henley, slacks, and boots that suggested they'd been tailored and maintained to perfection--a sure sign of a decadently-wealthy figure. This was a man who cared about appearances--and from the looks he gave you, you grudgingly noticed, you had more than passed inspection. When you led him to his table, he wasn't content to leave well enough alone--and his presence made you nervous. No one who came in here was usually rich, and there was a tremendous difference between a wealthy man who dabbled in treasure hunting and some scrappy ones who always did it. The latter had had to learn a little diplomacy along the way, so as not to be thrown in prisons, murdered, or arrested; ironically, the rich men who canoodled with diplomats were usually the ones who lacked it. 

"A moment, please," the man said sweetly when you turned to leave after seating him. You turned back, your smile still on your face and the clenching of your toes in your heels the only invisible indication of your tension. You could tell Jameson knew, though, because you could see him stiffen in the background of your vision and start heading over. To anyone who normally saw you at work, your body was no doubt radiating discomfort. You could practically feel it in the air. 

"Yes?" You answered politely, unable to muster a "sir". Fortunately, the man seemed too busy staring at you to care. 

"What's your name?"

"Y/N." 

The man considered you with a smile--a surprisingly big one, actually, and it seemed to throw Jameson for a loop as he arrived behind the customer. Clearly Jameson knew who this man was, and clearly he wasn't usually a smiler--and offered his hand, despite the fact that he was sitting and you were standing. 

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Rafe Adler."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sam's thoughts are in parentheses, like this!)

4 Months Later

New Orleans

 

"So, boys, what's next on our plate? Had enough of lounging around, having fun? Bored out of your minds yet?" Victor leaned back in the chair, telltale cigar in his hand. They were in the living room of the simple little house that the boys had bought with the South Africa find; it was near the water, which Nate loved, and near the bars, which EVERYONE loved. Not to mention far enough on the outskirts of the city to have a little bit of space between them and the rest of the what Victor jokingly called the 'riff-raff'. Sam liked it here; it was nice to be able to see the stars. And he wouldn't be lying to say that he liked having somewhere to call "home", too. It was, at the very least, practical to have a home base, but he couldn't deny how happy it made him to have one in his heart. 

He accepted the beer that Nate handed him as he walked by to sit on the couch with Elena, Nate's girlfriend. Years of treasure-hunting together, and they'd finally actually started dating. Sam was glad. His little brother deserved all the happiness in the world, and Elena was one of a kind. 

And so was someone else, just like Jameson had said, back in--

"Sam?" He turned to see Nathan's face, happy and relaxed, blue eyes staring right at him in good-natured curiosity. "Where'd you just go?" 

"Sorry. Run that by me again, Victor? Boredom?"

"Look at this." Victor turned to Nathan from the hefty recliner he was lounging in--his own personal palace in the place--and gestured to Sam with his unoccupied hand in one classy swoop. "He's so bored, he can't even hold on to a conversation. We did good, boys; we actually found a treasure, just like we were looking for, and now we're set for life. BUT-"

"Hey, come on Sully, we're not set for LIFE," Elena laughed. "You're telling me you couldn't do with a little more?"

"That's the opposite of what I'm telling you, sweetheart. I wouldn't care if we had six hundred million in the bank; I'm BORED. Bored bored bored. And Sam, there's no use in telling me that that's not true for you too. Right?" He looked at Sam pointedly on the floor nearby, where he lounged against a wall and thoughtfully sipped his beer. Nate's gaze turned to his brother, and Sam felt it. Putting his brother in danger again...

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Okay! OKAY, yes, I'm BORED. We all are. I mean, right guys?" he looked at Nate and Elena. "Aren't you guys bored, too, as stupid as it is? As much as we're going to regret this weeks from now, when we're in some old catacombs or something getting shot at?" 

Victor let out a hum of approval and sipped on his cigar for a second, and Sam felt the thrum of excitement in his chest at the prospect. Again, as stupid as it was...as much as it was gonna suck if they got into something too deep...and Nathan--

But his younger brother already looked won-over. "Ok-okay, yeah, I'm bored too. What about you Elena?" 

She sighed, but there was already a little smile on her face as she sat up and stretched. "You're right, it's stupid and we're going to regret it. But-" her shoulders slumped back down in "defeat", as the others straightened "Yeah. Let's do something. Absolutely."

"Okay!" Victor clapped his hands together and rubbed them excitedly, talking through his cigar-muffled teeth. "Where to, kids?" 

Elena leaned over and grabbed her laptop to look up tickets, stopping to look around at everybody. 

"You guys have a list, right? Places you've always wanted to go, hard-ass treasures to find...? Places you've meant to go back to...? And Chloe's free, I hear, so she might be able to tag along..." 

Sam had been staring across the carpeted floor at the mutely painted wall, visibly trapped in thought, his face pensive. Nathan had noticed, but knew not to bother his big brother when he had that face on. It meant he was doing some serious thinking--and that there was probably a stressful decision involved somewhere. Nathan wished that his brother would sometimes just SAY these things out loud, and talk about them with him instead, but the desire to protect his baby brother from worries ran deep--and sometimes Sam just couldn't do it. He'd started shifting at Elena's last questions, though, and Nate could see the statement forming on his lips like he was already practicing saying it. At her last question, he sat up straight suddenly, then consciously lowered his shoulders in an attempt to appear casual--an attempt that fooled absolutely no one. 

"How about..." his voice came out scratchy again. Dammit, she wasn't even here and his voice was already going. "S-south Africa again?" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4 Days Later

You were patiently sitting on your boat’s roof, watching the sun go down. In just a few minutes, it would be time to head across the little pier to the restaurant; it was a late night for you tonight, so for once you got to quietly watch the sunset alone before work actually started. Although lately, you’d found yourself kind of wishing for someone to watch the sunset WITH. Not a party or anything, just someone to be there, someone to see the same thing you were seeing…

No matter. You tossed your hair a little, in an effort to clear your mind, and promptly swiveled away from the horizon view and hopped down, heels and all, to the deck. It had been a good day, research-wise; several tagged sharks had returned to the area for mating season, and you were excited to see if they’d stick to the same patterns they’d exhibited last year, feeding in specific areas and mating in certain areas where water currents were warmest. The seal colony was booming this year—and, therefore, also booming loudly in the literal sense—and you were hoping that this would inspire even more sharks to come for a visit. Since this area was so well-protected and famous for its sharks, it was about as safe a haven as they could get for part of the year. Demand for shark fins was still putting many of them in danger, but you figured that successes here still had to count for something. Progress, little by little, right? You told yourself as you headed towards the restaurant, dressed in an elegant little light blue lace number and delicate little white heels. You’d been feeling ambitious this morning, and had actually put a few little Dutch crown braids into your half-updo for work today. After all, you figured, why not?

You knew, however, that it was a bad sign. You only started doing more things with your hair like this when you got bored, or when you needed a distraction. You hadn’t quite put the finger on what was bothering you yet, but something was—something circling that you were afraid to look directly in the eye. Perhaps most people just instantly knew what was wrong with them, but not you…or at least, not when it came to the big things. Perhaps it had something to do with what happened four months ago. 

Rafe had, essentially, followed you with his eyes all night—not something uncommon, but it WAS uncommon to be coming from someone like Rafe. Newcomers usually followed the cues of the regulars—and newcomers weren’t usually as rich as he was. Boys like that were used to getting their toys. You tried to keep your distance all night, staying at the main entrance, and did your best to stay within sight of Jameson at all times. You’d met enough men with that look in their eyes…from before. And you didn’t want even the slightest part of it. 

That night at closing, still feeling inexplicably sketched out, you gently touched Jameson’s arm as he passed by. “I’m staying with you tonight, all right?” Fear and a night of discomfort had made your voice firm, and it barely came out as a question. Jameson stopped his forward motion to look at you, and something in your gaze made him simply nod and say “Stay through with me. Get Lily and Tara to patrol together instead.” For once, you agreed. You’d only had to stay with Jameson as a precaution against lecherous customers twice in the past few years—and both times it had messed you up a little, just like this incident with Rafe was now. Rafe had loitered for a long time, but eventually even he had to leave when Jameson put his foot down—the unspoken battle being waged. Rafe was no fool; he knew he couldn’t outright say why he was staying, and Jameson was hesitant to risk an accusation. In the end, it was an impasse, and you spent the next several nights staying with him and his wife until several sources had confirmed that Rafe had left. 

It had rattled you, for some reason; reminded you of the bad place-and some of the nightmares had started coming back. You could only be grateful that he hadn't gotten close enough to touch. Who knew what could have happened then? Jameson would probably have gotten hurt trying to save you, and if Rafe had found you alone...you'd learned a long time ago that no matter what, everyone always ended up alone at some point or other. The dangerous ones were patient like that. 

Now, you shook your hair one more time in an effort to solidly remove the thoughts from your mind. Today was a good day, with a good dive, and it was going to be a good night. Jameson was expecting lots of friends, although he hadn't said which ones; their visit had surprised him, and he was excited about it. Apparently they'd done well for themselves with a recent treasure find, and were actually here for fun rather than business. You wondered faintly what they'd found--and what you'd have done with all that money...

"There she is. Pretty sunset tonight, huh?" Jameson said, smiling at her behind the bar as he laid out some new bottles of wine. One of the short-order cooks leaned out between the kitchen doors and caught his attention, murmuring a request. Jameson stepped towards him, sending one last friendly sentence over his shoulder to you before disappearing into the back. 

"It'll be a busy night, so you rest now. And remember--" he popped back out suddenly, pointing a finger firmly at you, his mouth and voice teasing but his eyes somber "you and I are having a late night tonight. No buts." 

You nodded slowly, your mouth twisting in a sad little smirk for a second before he vanished again. Tonight was the first night that you wouldn't be patrolling--mating season was over for sharks, and Tara and Lily had both left until the same time next year. The risk of an attack did go down marginally, since the population and aggression levels might "decrease", but those boys would still be in terrible danger if they were poaching. And she wouldn't be there to rescue them, now; Jameson had hounded her into submission, his eyes actually desperate with fear and worry, and she had to admit that when she thought of going into that dark water, ALONE, her insides lurched. Everything in her gut said no, and Jameson said no (and had also really really looked like he was about to cry), and so she agreed. But that didn't make tonight much easier. Someone could and probably WOULD die, someone that she could theoretically save. 

With a little sigh you turned to your podium and prepared for work, the night crowd only moments away. 

An hour and a half later, you were bobbing and weaving your way through the restaurant as usual, keeping your stride and determinedly keeping your mind OFF of the water outside. When it was quiet, you could faintly hear the seals "singing"--but fortunately it was nothing if not a cacophony of noises inside the place tonight. 

You'd kept Jameson's table open for his friends--he'd said there would be one or two more this time, so you'd set out a couple extra chairs. Otherwise, the place remained the same, and the night was going fairly smoothly hostess-wise until you returned up front to...Sam. 

All that practice in hiding your reactions to customers' injuries, grisly appearances, and rude behavior had paid off, because you managed to keep your surprise completely off your face. The only clue would have been a slightly unnecessary little hitch in your footing mid-step, but that could easily have just been the carpeting, and no one noticed it but you. Your smile big, gracious, and excited, you came forward briskly, remembering how much you really did like these guys. 

"Welcome back!" you said sweetly. "Same table as before, according to Jameson!" You turned to lead them with a smile, giving them no time to respond. You were determined to be as considerate and accommodating a hostess as possible--but you'd already pulled out all the stops last time, and Sam hadn't liked you, and you had no intention of risking embarrassment in front of the others by prostrating yourself at his feet and begging for five stars. The less contact, the better. 

They were well-dressed this time, strangely enough; the men were wearing white long-sleeved shirts, like those that would go underneath a tux--and there were two women now, one slight but well-built, with blonde hair and kind brown eyes, wearing a elegantly understated little dark-green dress and slightly-heeled wedge sandals. The other woman was a little taller, with dark hair, tanned skin and lithe movements and a cat's eyes. She was wearing a simple outfit, a nice t-shirt and some clean slacks. You'd seen all types of styles in here, from the most high-brow of brows to the lowest of low, and it was usually easy to tell if a woman wanted a compliment on her looks or not. These two, you could sense, could care less--but would have been nice about it, if you had said something. You liked them instantly. 

Arriving swiftly at the table, you turned to leave, issuing some of your signature lines at them, big happy smile still intact. "Here you are. Enjoy!" And you were off like a spinning top before they could respond, seeing Jameson already about to catch up from across the bar. 

Back to work; never mind that the one patron who didn't like you was here, and never mind the indisputable fact that a young kid could be out there swimming alone in the water RIGHT now and about to die, feeling fear in his chest and screaming for help without any answers...

It was fine. All fine. You were good. Time to work. No more thoughts. Work. DONE. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay," Elena said as they sat down, "THAT is the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen." 

"Right?!" Nathan exclaimed enthusiastically, posture noticeably relaxing since his girlfriend wasn't the jealous type.

"Make that most gorgeous HUMAN, actually," she said, still staring after you just like the boys had been. "Did you see her smile?"

"Did you see her ASS?" Chloe added, also staring. 

"Gotta say, seeing her's almost as good as the first time," Victor said with a chuckle and a little hum, already lifting his cigar, "I think I might be building up a tolerance, though. Gonna have to come here sparingly so I don't lose the effect!" 

Sam was still staring in your direction, body tense, convinced something had actually lodged in his throat and it would make him cough if he moved. Maybe he was actually allergic to you...he leaned forward, elbows on the table and face staring down at it. 

Jameson smiled as he eased up to the table, his smile growing bigger when he saw Elena. She stood up to give him a hug, her grin genuine and her embrace tight. "Jameson! It's been too long." 

"Right back at you, sweetheart. How's the new high-life treating you?" He gestured to his friends, all still sitting down, and pulled up the last chair. 

"Oh, fine. We're all insanely bored out of our minds, though," she said ruefully, sitting back down with a self-deprecating little laugh. 

"Well, I'm flattered that you had the good sense to think of me and come visit here first before the rest of the world," he responded laughingly, before leaning back in his seat and taking a proffered cigar from his table-neighbor Victor with a gesture of gratitude. "Gotta say, though, I wasn't expecting you back here for some time. It's barely been a while; seems like you were just here!" 

"Ah, well, some of us just couldn't wait to come back, could we, Sam?" Victor said with a laugh, rolling back in his chair and smiling. Sam's face turned bright red, his body still hunched over the table and his broad shoulders tense. He wanted to toss a retort back to Sully, he really did, but his throat actually felt paralyzed. Nate took pity on his brother, seeing his legitimate discomfort, and immediately leaned forward to in an effort to join in with the hunching and make the pose less obvious. 

"Hey, I think we ALL did, didn't we, Sully!" He said, patting Sam on the shoulder for a second. From his view of the table, Sam could briefly see his brother's posture shifting as he scooted towards him, letting him know he was there. He blinked up his thanks with a little lift of his eyes, knowing his baby brother was trying to defend him. Nate seemed to get the message, but his posture stayed big and protective. Elena watched from Nathan's other side, smiling knowingly in that quiet way she had. 

Chloe, who was already mainlining a drink from the bottle that Jameson had set up on the table, turned to him. "Hey, Jameson, bring that girl over here, would you? We never got properly introduced! These boys have had all the fun!"

Jameson laughed and turned to call you over, knowing the cyclical nature of your work would just be bringing you back around to their section of the restaurant again anyway. 

And Sam tried to focus on breathing--and preemptively containing his 'meeps'. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were spinning away from some tables near the main entrance, heading to the back to grab some vials of those lotions for some customers, when you heard Jameson's casual greeting and saw his little wave. It was a happy table, looked like, you thought to yourself as you headed over in full-hostess-mode. You couldn't see Sam yet, since he was just around the wall's bend, but you--

Oh. He didn't look happy. Still.

Your eyes only floated over him for a moment before they steadfastly stuck to everyone else, smoothly moving from person to person as Jameson introduced them. There was witty banter to go around, and you were pleased to see the other two again; the entire interaction only lasted moments, really. But when Jameson said Sam's name among the introductions, and everyone's attention not-so-subtly went to him, he still didn't look up at you. In fact, you saw his chest flutter for a second, and actually worried that he was going to start coughing again. 

(SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT)

Sam could barely think; he could see your body, could see your small waist and your long long legs and the hem of your cute little skirt, and his eyes fixated on your hands in the gracious little princess-pose that you were holding them in near right where he imagined your hip-bones began--you were wearing some rings, he could see, pretty rings--and your wrists were thin and your skirt shifted as you turned to presumably look at him and the lace shifted to be a little in between your thighs--

"meep" came out before he could say anything else. After all that and one had still escaped. 

(oh jesus fucking christ) 

He immediately began coughing, violently, more as a futile attempt to cover the 'meep ' than anything else. Chloe's laugh and Elena's concern and Nate's pats on his back--Nate, having figured out the problem from last time, had been swift to make the move and rub his brother's back before you could try to help and inadvertently make it worse--(god thanks little brother thank goodness oh for fuck's sake) were all in the background as the cough only increased.

Sam felt for sure he was going to pass out when he heard your smooth, honey-dipped voice lower a little in worry; he could hear that you'd leaned over him, you sounded so close--

"Are you all right? Water again?"

(fucking CHRIST, this had happened before and it was happening again and MEEP) 

He chugged the water that was passed to him, by whose hands he didn't know--until he felt better and his chest stopped heaving and he sat up a little and lowered it and saw from your tentatively lifted hand that the glass had come from you--

(she touched my hand she touched my hand this glass touched her and I touched it so now she's touched me and I touched it with my lips)

(FUCK.) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at him in concern, your head tilted questioningly, his face still looking down but his posture back up, and the others' growing laughter making you feel a bit more like the moment had passed. 

He let out one big deep rumble of a cough in his throat, the raspy ending of the wave, and grunted/groaned out a little "Thanks." 

It sounded so hostile, so grudgingly given, that you actually felt your head move back a little automatically. So that was what the phrase "taken aback" meant. 

Trying to recover yourself, you returned to your smile--a much smaller one, now--and turned to say "No problem" more to the entire table than to just him. 'Him' who apparently didn't like you...what the fuck were you doing wrong? 

"I'll leave you guys alone," you continued politely, spark a little dampened. In the brief quiet, a seal's bark was heard faintly outside, and you remembered the patrols. The other fun part of your evening tonight. 

The recovery from those thoughts was quick, however, and you rapidly brought back your big standard smile and tipped off a little wave and an "Enjoy!" before heading back to the front, your toes clenching in your shoes. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as you left, the others all turned to Sam slowly. Chloe spoke first. "Sam, what the hell was that? Jesus, I know Victor said you were BAD around her, but that was--"

"Just sad, really," Elena piped in, although hers was with a pitying little smile that made Sam turn even redder. 

"You look like a tomato," Sully chuckled, while Nathan gave his brother's arm a pat and gave him a bracing smile. 

Jameson, however, looked exasperated. "Sam, you gotta get it together. That poor girl thinks he doesn't like her," he said to the group. Sam's face was still turned down towards the table, but he shot his eyes up to Jameson at that. 

Feeling that his voice was back now, he responded--only everyone else was speaking now, too, so he lifted a hand (free from cigarette and gunpowder stains now, just like Nate and Sully's hands, since those lotions really did work--even though he blushed while he used them) to make everyone else shut up. "What do you mean, she thinks I don't like her?"

Jameson leaned back and opened his hands plaintively. "Y/N came up to me after you left drunk that first night and asked if I thought you boys would like it better if she didn't show you to your table anymore when you were here. Said she didn't think "the brother"--by that she meant you" (he pointed briefly at Sam)--"liked her and she must not have done a good job." 

Sam felt the superfluous color leaving his face, and straightened up to lean in further, his voice low. 

"She said all that?"

"Yeah. And Y/N is a conscientious sort, so she feels bad if she thinks someone didn't have a good time or didn't like the cough drops. And I'm sure THAT--" he gestured back towards where you'd gone, referring to the most recent meep-and-cough incident--"didn't help ease her mind any." 

"Godammit, Sam, thought you were supposed to be a player," Sully grumbled, smoking his cigar. 

"Guess it depends on the game," Elena said sadly, and Chloe smirked at that. "If you didn't feel bad for him, Elena, that would have been a sick burn." 

Sam was still busy thinking. He could feel his face sinking.

"She thinks I don't like her?"

Jameson nodded.

"I hurt her feelings?"

Jameson shrugged. "Well, more like she's hurting her own feelings, because she thinks she did a lousy job and ruined your night."

Chloe looked confused now, not having heard the whole story. "I thought you guys had a great night the last time you were here."

"We did," Nathan spoke up. "But Sam was, ah...a little too nervous to really make a good impression. Or conversation. Or...eye contact of any kind."

"Hey, I did," Sam retorted, weakly. "I did look at her, a-a little, I-"

"Yeah, like once--"

Sam threw his hands up in supplication, feeling a little better now that his words were working and you were gone and Elena and Nate seemed to be on his side and there were no more 'meeps'.

"She's really HOT, okay? She makes me nervous--" his voice got louder and he glanced at the corner to make sure you weren't coming. Seeing Sam return to his relatively normal, chatty self made the rest of his friends visibly relax, shifting in their chairs and reaching for drinks. 

"Maybe you just don't need an audience," Jameson commented helpfully, sipping a brandy. "Maybe you can talk to her by yourself sometime--and it'll"--he gestured to Sam's throat and mouth jokingly-- "actually WORK. Although she's probably just going to have cough drops at the ready anytime you're around from now on".

"Those were really good cough drops," Sam and Nathan both murmured, Nathan having swiped one back then since they had come from you. 

"And that lotion is a helluva product," Sully added, raising a clean hand to show Jameson. " 'Course, it helps that we haven't been getting much action lately in that department." 

"Sam's not going to get ANY action in ANY department if he keeps this up," Chloe chimed in teasingly. Sam glared at her, cheekbones getting a little red again. Jameson leaned over and put his hand around Sam's neck comfortingly. 

"Hey, you're not the only reason Y/N is a little on-edge tonight."

Sam straightened and focused on his friend's face. "What? Why not?" He corrected himself "I mean--what else?" 

"Sam didn't accidentally make any profane South-African gestures, did he?" Victor joked, and Chloe laughed. Jameson shook his head. "No, and she's American. Boston."

Nate perked up, and Sam was already perked. "Really? Us too," even though his friends already knew. "Well, there you go, Sam. You can talk to her about that." He leaned back with a shit-eating grin as if the job was already done.

Sam glanced at his brother for a second, absorbing that valid suggestion for later consideration, before quickly turning back to Jameson. "What's the matter with Y/N?" 

"She's a shark diver. During the day. Does research. Dabbles in underwater archaeology, too, when it's needed. Hell of a diver," he beamed as he bragged about you. The group's attention solidified, and Sully paused with his drink. "But for the past couple of years, she's also been volunteering at night--patrolling the passage to Seal Island for kids, usually desperate or delusional teenage boys, who try to snorkel out and poach abalone. In this stretch of water, at night, in the dark, dressed like seals--it's a death sentence. She saves them against their will, and she's had enough close calls and injuries to have several scars and give ME several nightmares. But she can never do it alone." He answered Elena's questioning gaze. "Sometimes it's more than pulling them onto the boat. Sometimes she's gotta dive in and get 'em. If that happens, she needs a safety--another person as her backup. So nobody ever patrols alone. The two marine biologists who take turns helping her--you boys met one of them, very briefly, if you could drunkenly remember--they go back to the States after mating season's over, and so now Y/N/ is on her own. Which means no more patrols. Hence why she's working later nights here, so I can keep an EYE on her--" he gestured back in your general direction "and keep her from going out there alone in a desperate attempt to save someone. But what that comes down to is," he looked towards the one window he could partially see, which was dark now, and let out a deep, slow sigh "there could very well be someone swimming out there right now and Y/N can't be there to save them." 

There was a moment of silence before he added, "And this is her first night not doing it, so you can be damn sure it's on her mind."

"That's a lot of pressure," Elena murmured. 

"And crazy dangerous," Chloe said quietly. 

"Why does she do it?" Sam asked abruptly. He had a feeling it had something to do with why you were sad.

Jameson answered. "Well, she USED to do it with--" he clammed up suddenly, freezing in place and lifting his hands slowly off the table as if in surrender. "Whoaoah there. Not my story to tell." 

"Wha-? Jameson!" Chloe wheedled, annoyed and feeling the pique of curiosity. But Jameson shook his head somberly. "Nope. Not going there. No way." 

 

"Oh, and speaking of 'no way'--Victor." He touched Sully's shoulder, and his face shifted to one of mischief. "You boys aren't gonna believe this. Guess who turned up the very night after your oh-so-incredible find."

Sully grins. "Ohhhhhh boy, not Rafe? He got THAT close and we still got it first?" Jameson nods, and Sully laughs. The others join in, too, all knowing Rafe's infamous character. "If only you had a picture of his face!" 

"Hahahaaaaa, if only." The laughter subsides after a minute or so, and Jameson speaks up again. "But hey, you boys avoid attracting his attention over here again if you can, okay? He's not so much fun to be around--and he scares poor Y/N half to death."

"Wait, really?" Chloe seemed surprised. "He's half her height!"

Jameson shrugged, his face grave. "Hey, all I know is Y/N was nervous enough to ask me if she could stay at my wife and I's place until he was gone. And...Y/N doesn't rattle easily. Not like that." 

"Sorry, Jameson." Nate looked genuinely upset. "We didn't mean to put her on his radar. Do you think he would actually have hurt her?"

Jameson glanced at Sam, then looked at Nathan and nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sam's thoughts are in parentheses, like this!)

Two hours later, the nightlife was roaring inside and you'd decided to step out for your tiny break. Jameson had insisted that you stay within sight of the restaurant--no doubt because he was afraid that you'd try to sneak off and patrol solo--but you knew there was no real danger of that. You were scared, too scared to go out there by yourself and risk finding someone and having to get in the water and save them. The knowledge made your body feel flush with shame, and you took a deep breath and circled your feet a little restlessly, lifting one at a time to twirl your ankles in your heels, hands on your hips and your eyes down on the ground. Anything but out there at the water; but you could still see some of the water through the dock's cracks...

"You all right?"

You looked up, a little unsettled at the sudden intrusion, to see Sam-the-grumpy-brother leaning casually against the lamppost behind you, a cigarette in one hand and one leg bent surprisingly gracefully over the other one in a very James-Dean-like pose. 

Sam felt like his legs were shaking; if you'd seen him moments earlier, you would have seen his awkward rearrangement of his body as he searched for the right position. He'd suddenly forgotten where to put his hands--and normally a casual lean was just that-CASUAL-but today he'd swear he could feel his back slipping slowly down the pole and losing its position through the denim wool jacket that he'd thrown on for the rather chilly night. He hoped to God he didn't fall down. 

Too late; his back started to slip, and he jerked upright for a second before reestablishing a more vertical version of the pose. (christ, did she see that? please god tell me she didn't see that)

Your smiles and friendly greetings obviously had no effect on this guy, but the habits kicked in and you rose to the occasion with a big smile and a little laugh, straightening to stand solidly on both feet and touching your side-bangs away from your face for a second before looking away. "Oh--yes, thanks."

Sam looked at you, unsure for once in his life of what to say--but thanking his lucky stars that Jameson had been right, and he really could speak to you without an audience. He saw that you were facing the water, even if you weren't looking at it, and wondered if you were thinking of patrols. He figured it was probably likely--but there was something else that was really bothering him, something else that he felt guilty about. And it wasn't even his embarrassing brush-offs from before. 

"Hey," he stepped forward, and the road's gravel and the dock's planks creaked and crunched a little under his shoes. You turned to face him, manners kicking in, hands still on your hips, and he saw you consciously brace yourself and lift your head up with a little breath, changing your face to look alert and expectant and bright. He didn't want you to look like that, he wanted you to look...happy...or sad...real. Not that customer-service face that he figured you must be so, so tired of making. But it was too soon for that, and he didn't want to push you. 

He stepped close, just a foot away, and there was an awkward pause while he looked away for a second, cigarette still in one hand. His hazel eyes looked over the starry horizon, clearly searching for words, and the look on his face while he searched was so comical and adorable that you almost wanted to laugh. It took you by surprise, internally. You really didn't know what he was going to say--but maybe you HAD done something wrong, and he was trying to find a nice way to tell you...

Maybe he wouldn't be coming back and all of Jameson's friends wouldn't be coming back because you were so bad at it--

"Jameson told me that Rafe paid you a visit four months ago." Your eyes had zoned out a little on his face, but snapped to sharpness as soon as he said that. It wasn't at all what you had expected, and to have one of the three things you'd been deeply avoiding thinking about brought up so suddenly was like a punch to the stomach. Sam clearly caught it on your face, the way your expression faltered and the poised look fell. He felt like he was actually seeing the real you, there, and he wanted it to keep going. But he had something to say...

He stepped even closer, his voice low and gravelly and husky. It made your breath catch a tiny, imperceptible bit. "I know Rafe can be scary. He was here because of us, and--" He sighed, or groaned, perhaps, and looked down at the ground--you crossed your arms a little, a fairly small motion but a huge one in this context, and the tensing of your shoulders and slight lifting of your head all might as well have amounted to one giant step backwards. Your eyes moved away from his uncomfortably; it was clear that you were embarrassed or discomfited and wanted him to get this over with as quickly as possible, and seeing that made his next words come out in a rush--

He reached forward with his upper body and his hands in a little pleading motion, pulling you back in to look in his eyes as if he'd actually touched you. When he saw you look back at him, he took a breath and spoke very slowly, in almost a whisper. "I'm sorry he scared you." 

You looked at him carefully, timidly, up until he said that--but the dark, deep earnestness in his gaze and the emotion in his voice--like he knew, like he'd seen right into your head and your heart and knew just how much you'd been shaken up--broke you somehow. Your own chest and throat tightened, and you swallowed, your eyes shifting from his eyes to his face and back again nervously, before you settled for looking down at the ground to recalibrate yourself. You took a breath, pursed your lips, and then you looked back up at him softly and said, quietly, a sad little smile on your face--

"I come from-" a little breath-laugh came out, more like an apologetic and rueful sound than anything else, and your smile showed your teeth for a millisecond before your lips closed and tightened again-- "a very bad place." You looked back down at that, arms crossed, needing to re-center again. "He just...r-reminded me of it. Freaked me out a little...or a-a bit." You looked back up after just a moment, and visibly straightened and gently brushed your bangs out of your face with your hand, glancing around the pier and keeping your rueful smile, to see a disconcertingly intent-looking Sam looking back at you, his face so intently focused on you and what you were saying and his body so still. Why the fuck had you just told him that? You never told ANYONE that. Jameson had only known by default--

Why the FUCK had you told him?

You tried to shake it off, and now you physically shook your head a little and raised your hands up--much (although not to your knowledge) like Sam raised his hands up oftentimes in exasperation or when in need of clarity--waving them in the air for a second as if to actually clear it. "Sorry, sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry." His voice blended into the end of yours, but it sounded sad, clinging to the conversation and ignoring the false brightness in your last words. "You were upset; I asked." He said it plainly, and his voice sounded a little cheerier now. Sam could hear and see that you wanted to stop going over it, that you wanted to pretend everything was fine, and he didn't think it would be a good idea to bring up the other two things right now. Besides, one of those two things he could already be fixing right now, just by being nice to you and coming to check on you (hell, smoking was already allowed indoors, his cigarette break had just been an excuse and everyone knew it) and, well, actually speaking to you in English. And nicely. 

(she looks nervous; she doesn't want to talk about this anymore. don't freak her out-) 

You kept talking, not knowing why. "I don't usually tell people that," you said quietly, surprising even yourself. You took a breath and shook your shoulders and neck in a little twitch, which probably looked weird (actually, it made your hair shine and flip under the docklight, which just made Sam stare), but braced you enough to head back inside and push this aside until tomorrow when you could accept that it happened. 

"Well, I've got to go back to work. Enjoy your cigarette," you said softly, stepping past him and heading inside. "Thanks," you heard him murmur as you went, and your heart fluttered in a weird way that you'd never felt before. You could feel that your body wanted to go back there, to hang out with him, even if there was no talking involved. Unfortunately, however, you hadn't been lying. Hostesses needed to host. 

And maybe he'd stick around a little longer this time, anyway, and you could do this again. 

But no, you thought as you stepped back inside, abruptly remembering what you'd just told him. You told him part of your biggest, biggest secret, out of nowhere, and you didn't even know his last name. 

'Why the FUCK did you tell him, Y/N?'


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is Uncharted: Lost Legacy, basically. Except Nadine and Chloe are already a longstanding couple--not very lovey-dovey, except in private. In addition, Nadine and Sam have had some kind of competition with a job before, but it wasn't the Uncharted 4 story, and so she doesn't quite HATE him. There's just some weird unease with each other-but that will go away! Mostly...
> 
> Also how cute is Sam?! The answer: very.

Two months later, Nadine, Chloe, and Sam were all clambering through the Western Ghats of India, doing their best to catch up to a certain maniacal villain named Asav. They'd been running, climbing, and swinging for a while, and soon Chloe's concussion and Sam's beating got the best of them. 

"Okay, ladies," Sam heaved out, bent over with his hands on his knees, sunglasses on (but a tad broken) and his blue tropical shirt a little dirty. "I hate to be the one to call it quits here, but can we stop for a sec?" 

Chloe nodded and collapsed to the ground with a "phew" before he'd even finished his question. Sam let out a laugh, still bent over. "I guess that answers that." Nadine looked at the two of them, hands on her hips, and the others braced themselves for her scowl before seeing her sigh and sit down--WITHOUT a grimace. Surprised, Sam and Chloe exchanged a humorous look. Maybe Nadine really was tired--or maybe she was just being...nice. 

"Had enough too, Nadine?" Chloe asked, leaning her head back against the cliff wall that they were perched on. Nadine let out a huff. "Not even remotely. But I figure I should let you codgers get your breath back for a moment." She stayed serious, looking out over the landscape, then let a small smile form on her face when she saw them watching her. Sam and Chloe laughed. "Well I'll be damned, look who's got a sense of humor." Sam chuckled, then held his hands up in mock surrender when she temporarily glowered at him for his comment. Their laughter faded, and they rested for a second before Chloe suddenly lifted a hand. "Whoop, I almost forgot! Sam!" He looked at her and she reached into her pocket with a steadily-growing smile. "Look" she held up a vial, and Sam's eyes widened "what I have here for you." He was already reaching out for it, and she handed it over readily, grinning. Jokes aside, she knew that he would be excited. This was the lotion from the South Africa girl, after all. 

"Oh my go-" he tried to recover from his obvious enthusiasm, with a little cough. (Shit), he thought. (Coughing again). "I, uh, I forgot that you got one too." He opened it delicately and started rubbing it over his hands, wanting to smell it but not wanting them to see. Chloe knew how good that lotion smelled--she'd been using it herself, after all,--and decided to have mercy on him. "Doesn't it smell good, Sam?" she asked, giving him permission. He let out a little cough-laugh from relief and excitement, and lingered it near his nose to sniff it. It DID smell good of course, and he felt a pang in his chest; he'd really missed this smell while he was a prisoner, and actually gotten scared that he'd never smell it again. She put rosemary or something in it...he'd tried to figure out what it was every time he used it, not-so-subtly sniffing it every moment that Nathan and Sully weren't looking on their trips. He sniffed his hands after, too. 

"It smells good," he said, feigning surprise at the scent even though he had it memorized. Nadine was watching, curious. "What is that?" 

Sam looked up, mouth hanging open a little for a second, and Chloe knew that he was hesitant to spill the beans about you to someone who'd only just started becoming his friend. Since she was sitting closer to her, and felt like throwing Sam a bone, she turned to answer instead, sensing his relief as he went back to quietly and only-a-little-obsessively sniffing. 

"It's a gunpowder lotion," Chloe said, smiling. "It removes the stains. See?" She held up her mostly-clean hands, showing off her tanned fingers. Nadine's eyebrows went up. "I'm actually impressed." 

"What, you didn't think I had such a lady's hands NATURALLY, did you?" Chloe laughed. Nadine smirked, and held out her hand. "Let me try." 

Sam looked up from where he was hunching, Gollum-like, over the vial, then gave out a petulant "No!" 

Chloe laughed, even though Nadine frowned, and said "don't worry, Nadine, there's more where that came from. We'll just have to go down to South Africa and get some!"

Nadine perked up at the mention of her home, and her face grew even more interested. Sam, keeping an eye on Nadine now that he knew she was interested in his lotion, continued possessively holding and sniffing it. 

"Well, we've had enough of a rest," she said, standing up and gesturing to Chloe, "so why don't we start walking for a bit and you can tell me about it?" 

Chloe nodded, then turned to see Sam still sniffing. She smiled to herself, a small and genuinely-moved one, then turned back to Nadine. "Give us a second, will you?" she whispered. She nodded towards the trail with her head. "Go scout up ahead." Nadine glanced between the two of them, then went with a smile--not knowing everything, but knowing that Sam looked strangely cute. 

Chloe turned back to sit next to him for a minute. He briefly glanced at her, back to sniffing, then seemed to do a double-take and started straightening with a bracing, deliberately manly little 'ahem' as he sat up. "I..was just-I-" in his panic he tried to casually hold the vial one-handed, but almost dropped it, and quickly caught it again just before the ground, the urgency of his movement making him lose face. Chloe chuckled, but it was kind, and he could hear in her sound that she wasn't there to mock him. He sat back up, clutching the vial with both hands and looking down at it like a kid with a tiny treasure, then very quietly whispered "It...it smells really good." 

"I know." Chloe looked out at the horizon, a relaxed smile on her face, and felt his gaze turn to look tentatively at her. Her smile grew, and with a little laugh she bumped her side against his affectionately. He laughed with her softly, genuinely. "You'll get to see her again, Sam. But we've got some business to attend to here first, right?" She waited for his response patiently; he looked out at the horizon, then at her, and sighed. "Yeah," he said with a grunt as he got up, "You're right. After all," he moved to lightly toss the vial up and down in the air, but immediately thought better of it and moved to delicately place it in his pocket slowly and with both hands "we're going to need more of these."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language is Xhosa; I simply picked one of the South African languages and did Google Translate, so please do not look to me for completely accurate language translations....also Warning: some swearing! Other than that, enjoy!

Just a couple of days after the adventures in India, Sam and his two friends were arriving in South Africa again, desperately 'in need of more lotion'--and you were working, as usual. Without your evening dives, you were finding your nights strangely free, and the empty space was throwing you off your game. You wanted to do SOMETHING with it, but you didn't know what...

Maybe you SHOULD actually travel. Go do something, like other people did. The shark count was down, and work was same-old-same-old for the most part, and it was hard every time that you heard about a young poacher dying on a dive that you could have stopped. You were in a rut...not to mention the fact that none of the restaurant guests were as interesting as Jameson's friends had been. 

Maybe Sam was only nice out of guilt that last night, you mused as you headed to work, the sun going down behind you. Maybe he really did think that you were a bad hostess, and he was headed off to other restaurants around the world rather than see you--

Oh. There he was. 

You'd heard the woman, Chloe's, laugh around the corner before you'd seen them. He was with her and another woman, a beautiful one with a fierce expression and the gait of a soldier. You were surprised to feel the smile coming onto your face automatically, your poise for once jolted out of position at the surprise of seeing him so unexpectedly. You didn't have time to wonder if he'd noticed the difference, because he was already smiling back--HUGELY. It looked like his grin was going to fall off his face, and you had both inadvertently made exclamations and noises of surprise somewhere between a "Heeeeeeey!" and a "Hiiii!" and an "Oh!". The greeting was so enthusiastic and powerful on both sides that you almost reached out to hug him--if it was anyone else, you would have, and you would have held on tight. It was as if you were seeing a very, very old friend after a long time. Sam wanted to hug you, too, so powerfully that he really almost did. He felt his hands come up but jerked them down when Nadine stepped into his view--being, for once, genuinely thankful for Nadine's forward manner.

The other woman approached you, hand held out straight and smile small, but nice. "Nadine Ross," she said briskly, her South African accent coming through right away. No wonder she seemed so comfortable in her stride; she WAS at home. Although you doubted that this woman felt uncomfortable very often, anyway. You found yourself liking her instantly, and you responded with an equally direct and confident hand to shake. "Ndivile kakhulu ngawe (I've heard a lot about you)", she said, and you felt the other two shift a little at hearing the foreign language in the way that all people did when unexpectedly feeling left out. This woman wanted to speak Xhosa, though, and she was their friend, so you went with it, replying smoothly. "Ngokwenene? Nantoni na? (Really? Anything good?)" She let go of your hand with a laugh. "Ewe, konke okulungileyo. Eli ngaphaya apha uzimisele ukukubona kwakhona, nangona akayi kuvuma. (Yes, all good. This one over here's been eager to see you again, although he won't admit it.)" She didn't gesture to Sam, obviously knowing that you would understand the "he" in the sentence, and you decided to deflect with a laugh of your own. 

Sam leaned over to Chloe, who was standing in the middle of the trio, and murmured "You gettin' any of this...?" She was watching the other two women talk, fascinated, and shook her head slowly with a deep "Nooooope." "Okay, great..." Sam couldn't believe he was feeling jealous of Nadine Ross. But she was being a Y/N-hog--

You were still responding to Nadine's comment, trying to swiftly move past her little jab about Sam's eagerness. "Kakuhle, oko kulungile. Ndilinde amahlobo kaJameson ukuba abuyele. Uza ukuhlwa? (Well, that's all right. I've been waiting for Jameson's friends to come back. Are you coming for dinner?)"

Nadine turned to look at the restaurant that you had all met next to before answering. "Ewe, singena ngoku. Kucinga ukuba sikubethe kuyo! Kodwa hlala--" her voice dropped mischievously, which was strange to hear coming from a woman with such an initially stern visage "--masiqhubeke sithetha kanje, nje ukuzonwabisa. Ndiyakwazi ukuxelela ukuba uqhuba uSam kunye neKloe nuts. (Yes, we're going in now. Guess we beat you to it! But hey--let's keep talking like this, just for fun. I can tell it's driving Sam and Chloe nuts.)" 

Sam and Chloe had both perked up like meerkats upon hearing their names--Sam tense, wondering if Nadine was saying something bad about him, and Chloe starting to get just slightly jealous--and by the end of the sentence they couldn't take it any longer. "Wha--hold up, did she say 'NUTS'?" Sam blurted out. And Nadine let out a laugh--a real, big laugh--and headed inside. Chloe, giggling, said hi as she passed you by and headed in as well. You were laughing, too, and started to head in after them since it was time for work and Sam was busy standing in the street with a befuddled expression on his face. 

You quickly felt a hand on your arm, though, and turned to hear him saying, in a lower voice reserved just for you, "Just-just hold on a minute, Y/N." You looked at him expectantly, a smile on your face, and you could feel that you meant it. You really WERE happy to see him, you could feel it in every single one of your bones. It felt like you were tingling all over, tingling and tight. He had no idea how much he'd just made your day. 

Or maybe he did, if the flush rising in his cheeks was any indication. He suddenly got awkward, and shifted in place; he lifted one hand as if to rub the back of his neck, then abruptly stopped it up above his shoulders and brought it back down, clearly going through some kind of comical mental search for words that he didn't have. You looked on, amused, for a moment. He was wearing some blue Hawaiian looking shirt, open to expose a muscular chest that peeked out from a well-fitting, as well as well-worn, white tank top of sorts. His jeans were also loose and a little dirty, although they looked like they fit him pretty well, and his shoes were scuffed. Not to mention you could see some bruising--

"Are you all right?" You asked, and he chuckled, looking mostly at the ground, and shifted again. "Shit, we keep asking each other that," he laughed. Okay, his cheeks were definitely red now. He could feel it--

(SHIT GODDAMNIT)

"Well, at least you're not coughing--" you said at the same time as he said "But yeah, I'm good I just, I uh--" 

you laughed at the crossover, then made an awkward little gesture yourself, pointing up to his face as if you were going to touch it, your finger delicately hanging in the air for a second-- "I actually meant--"

He looked blank for a second, then brought his hand up to his face. "Oh, THAT. Yeah, I--no I'm good," he said, his sardonic voice casual and his accent growing stronger as he relaxed more. You thought you saw his chest actually puffing up a bit, proud of his injuries in a little-boy sort of way --"Nothing I can't handle, few bruises and scrapes--"

"Do you want some ointment for them?" You asked kindly; you didn't have kids, and probably never would, but you still got some kind of strange little thrill from mothering people. And you DID have ointment for scrapes. 

He looked like he was going to refuse for a second, hands going up to gratefully say no, before his face seemed to realize what you said--then his mouth hung open for a second, and he said, his voice somehow even deeper and more gravelly, "uhhhh....yeah."


	8. Chapter 8

You were in the back closet of the restaurant, Sam sitting on a stool and you sitting directly in front of him, tending to his bruises with little dabs of ointment and the occasional bandages. He'd taken off his Hawaiian shirt for you, since there were some rougher ones on his chest and shoulders--but he hoped to God that you wouldn't ask if he needed something for his ribs. He couldn't lie to you, and if you tried to help by touching his abs...there'd be no way to come back from that embarrassingly obvious reaction. And he could feel that that would definitely happen, if he let you touch him there. One hundred percent. It was hard enough remembering how to speak English with you touching his face and neck like you were right now--

Sam seemed stressed, you thought to yourself as you gently soothed his wounds, your eyes on the wounds themselves and not his face. You kept your own expression calm and pleasant--this wasn't the first person you'd had to patch up back here, after all, and you knew that looking concerned was no real help to anybody--as you worked. 

"Not gonna ask how I got 'em?" he asked huskily, sitting stiffly. Maybe he was in more pain, you thought...but he seemed to want you to talk, to distract him. You, of course, didn't know how right you were about that. 

You glanced up at him with your own (E/C) eyes, looking into his hazel ones with a knowing little smile before looking back at the current wound. "I've learned it's best not to ask. But--" you looked up at him again, subconsciously doing your very best puppy eyes, and all remaining traces of his cool wavered, his breath catching "it must have been very scary. I'm sorry." You said it genuinely, and quietly, and you meant it. He could feel that you meant it, that you were concerned about him...

He tried to laugh it off, huffing in his chest. "It's all right. He hit like a girl." Too late he realized that some women might find that offensive- but you laughed, a twinkly little laugh, and kept on bandaging. "Y'know, some girls might find that insulting," he said, surprised pleasure coloring his voice. You let out another little laugh, still working, and quietly murmured "I don't get offended very easily."

"You must not, working here," he said, feeling better now that his conversation skills were warming back up, the initial contact's jolt replaced by the new buzz of your touch. Every movement of your hands and fingers was making him feel warm and tingly all over, like a heady glass of wine. "How'd you--" your hand brushed his chest a little lower accidentally, and all he could do was thank GOD that you weren't wearing a low-cut dress--he started again-- "how'd you get here? I mean--" he blushed as you looked at him bemusedly, recognizing the silliness of the question "working here, I mean." 

"I knew Jameson from the docks in general," you said mildly, trying not to panic. Questions about your start were making you think about what you'd said last time...what you'd told him--

You mentally shook yourself straight. "He retired and wanted to do this, I was always nearby anyway and figured I could use some extra money. So here we are," you finished, your voice bright. You could feel Sam's eyes on you. "And the sharks?" he asked. Your eyebrows raised automatically, your mouth in a tiny 'O' for a second as you adjusted to the new topic. He worried that he'd bothered you--

"My family used to do it," you said softly. "I just got used to doing it with them. And this is the shark capital, so again, here we are." You deliberately let yourself say 'we', as if they were here and right around the corner. 

"Do you love it?" he asked suddenly, and you looked up at him, keeping his gaze this time. He really was a handsome man, you abruptly realized in your core; rugged, and rough, and not quite as dashingly clean-cut as his brother. But definitely handsome, and charming--

Sensing that the question had thrown you, he took a chance and let it hang in the air. He didn't even know where it had come from, anyway--

"No," you said back, surprising yourself. You shrugged a little ruefully. "But it's what I know how to do." 

Sam seemed somehow pleased by your answer; you saw his shoulders lower, as if he was relaxing, and he lifted his arms, rotating them gently in a weird stretch. You actually told the truth; he could tell, and a part of Sam felt absurdly giddy that you'd told him and no one else. 

(actin' like a fuckin' two year-old with a secret over here-) he chided himself, but he couldn't stop the smirk from starting on his face. At what, YOU didn't know; but he looked happy. Or contented, maybe. You sat back on your heels, since it looked like he was going to get up. 

"Heyyy," he said in a low, Fonzie-style croak, "you can always come treasure-hunting with me and my friends. Always time to learn something new. And hey--" he snapped his fingers, the faint rosemary scent in the closet reminding him -- "I know plenty of people who could use those lotions."

"Oh, speaking of which, you must need more!" you said, standing up. You reached for his hand to help him up, but he slid into a vertical position smoothly on his own, kicking himself internally for you beating him to it. HE was supposed to help YOU up, dammit. 

As the two of you turned to leave, he said "Y/N--one more thing." You looked at him, next to you in the closet doorway, the restaurant noise growing ahead of you. "What d'you put in those, anyway? They smell really good." 

You smiled. "Rosemary." 

He grinned back. "I thought so."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sam's thoughts are in parentheses, like this!)

The evening had been busy, but uneventful; you'd done your job, weaving through the restaurant seamlessly as the hostess, and the loud laughs and relaxed conversation from Jameson's table had filled the night with charm. Part of you loved hearing the ambient noise; a bigger part of you wanted to know what they were talking about. As the night started slowing down, you prepared to head home; most days, you had later hours, but tomorrow was your day off. It was, in all honesty, the first day off you'd ever really had, and you weren't sure what to do with it--a fact that Jameson found strange and hilarious. 

You headed over to the table to say goodbye, feeling the smile stay naturally on your face instead of forced. Tonight you were wearing another lovely little cocktail dress and heels, your hair in a softly elegant half-up-do. Your feet hurt tonight, and you were a little tired, but you kept that to yourself just as you did most things. 

"Have a good night, guys!" You said cheerfully, pleased to hear that the conversation didn't jerk to a halt like it had the first time you'd met them. The two women seemed in very high spirits--and had perhaps IMBIBED on said spirits, too--since they had big smiles and gave her overenthusiastic waves. "Hi, Y/N!" Chloe shouted, then immediately followed with "Am I shouting? Feels like I'm shouting." 

Nadine actually giggled. "YES, you ARE." 

Sam had been lifting a beer to his lips when you'd come in, but he'd lowered it and was holding it in place on the table while you talked. You got the feeling that he wanted to keep his mouth available for speaking. 

Putting a hand on Jameson's shoulder, who was sitting down just in front of you, you said "I'm heading out, Jameson. Are you good?"

He let out a low laugh, obviously a little drunk himself. "Yeah, Y/N, I'm good. You get some rest now," he said with faux-sternness, "you work too hard. Tomorrow's her first day off in history," he said to the others, and you managed to keep your face cheerful despite your surprise at his open statement. You shouldn't have been surprised, though, you mused briefly; he DID find it funny after all. 

"Anybody have any ideas for Y/N for something to do?" he asked the table, and you were too busy laughing, hands delicately placed on your waist, to see his wink at them. 

"You've NEVER had a day off?" Chloe gaped at you, Scotch in hand. You shook your head, still smiling, with a cute little shrug that Sam found himself thinking was insanely adorable. He wanted to hug you again, and his fingers twitched on the bottle. Sitting here, in this restaurant, just like he had when you first met, was making a subtle tickle start in his throat--

(No. Jesus fucking christ don't cough)

"So you really don't know what to do?" Nadine asked, a pitying laugh in her voice, her fork still in her hand. 

You shook your head, and your face became earnest; you really DID want suggestions. These three seemed like they'd had some exciting times, and they could give you some pointers. Maybe they'd have an idea on how to get you out of this rut...

There was silence for a moment, and for some reason you could feel in the subtle nuances of their body language that they were all tilting their unspoken focus towards Sam, who was leaned over the table again and looking strangely tense. His shoulders hunched. 

(don't cough don't cough don't cough)

"meep HACK" came out as rough mewl-squeak, immediately followed by a strong cough, and he pounded on his chest firmly and swigged his beer, pectoral muscles still heaving a little bit. 

Worry and pity came to your face, and you quickly grabbed some cough drops for him. That made your ass rise in the air in your short dress, and subsequently it only made his cough worse. 

Poor Sam, you thought sadly. He must be sick...

"Y/N," Nadine said suddenly, feeling an actual sensation akin to sympathy for Sam, "can you go get us some of that lotion, please, before we head out?" 

"Oh, sure!" You nodded with a smile, relieved to be doing something helpful, since he was still hacking. As soon as you stepped out, Sam grabbed Nadine's beer from her and chugged it too. "Jesus Christ," he rasped. 

"Sam..." Jameson's voice and face were regretful, and Sam looked at him tenuously. "You 'meep'ed again."

Ten minutes later, they'd left--they couldn't very well stay later now that Nadine had mentioned heading out to you, and Sam would have been mad if he hadn't also been grateful to her for covering his ass--as a group, Chloe giving you a tipsy hug and Nadine giving you a sendoff in Xhosa and Jameson staying to lock up. You waited at the front door for them to leave, figuring you'd stay overtime for a few minutes just to make sure Jameson finished up safely, and gave Sam a pat on the shoulder as he walked past, still looking downcast and distracted. 

"I hope your cough gets better," you said brightly, but sadly, and he managed to squeak out "Me too" before abruptly rushing out the door. 

(Me fucking too.)


	10. Chapter 10

"Okay, I've got to be honest," Nadine said as they walked down the street towards their hotel only moments later. "That was pathetic." 

"It wasn't PATHETIC, I--" Sam started to argue, then let his hands go down to his sides. "Okay, yeah, it was a little pathetic."

"I'm embarrassed for you, mate," Chloe said companionably, patting his back briefly. "But hey, maybe you can track her down tomorrow! You know she's free." 

"And..." Nadine said hesitantly, a smile growing on her face reluctantly, "we'll actually help you." 

Sam and Chloe exchanged a look of disbelief before he looked back at her. "Well, look at you! I-"

"Shut it," she snapped, back to being her self, "I just feel sorry for you is all. And she's nice." 

"And GORGEOUS, right Nadine?" Chloe asked teasingly. Even though her girlfriend's tone was light, Nadine blushed a little. "AND she's gorgeous," she admitted slowly.

"Nadine Ross trying to set me up," Sam mused slowly with a deep chuckle, lighting a cigarette. "Hell of an adventure."

"Oh I'm not trying," Nadine said, her voice getting louder and more combative. They both looked at her, getting nervous again, but she smiled, stepping ahead to beat them to the hotel door. "I AM setting you up. I don't fail at things I try."

She went inside with a decidedly cocky smirk and a laugh, opening the door as she walked backwards, and Chloe and Sam paused outside to glance at each other, considering it. 

"Well, I'll take it," he shrugged. Chloe laughed. "Not like you can afford NOT to, mate." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you were dressed in a pretty light green sports bra and long, comfortable high-waisted leggings that made you look particularly good. Or, at least, you thought so, as you looked at yourself in the mirror in your apartment. You hadn't gone on a jog up the nearby mountains for quite some time, so it had probably just been a while since you'd worn them. The rest of your wardrobe was literally just dresses and wetsuits; you didn't even own sweatpants. And your pajamas were just your underwear, usually. 

You wrapped two flesh-colored bandages around your upper arms to cover your scars, relieved that there was a color that was a perfect match before firmly shutting the thoughts of the scars out of your mind. Since no one had actually given you any pointers and suggestions last night, it had been up to you to improvise--and you did like going up into the mountains, since most of your time was actually spent by the sea. It was different, and quiet in another sort of way. It was nice. 

You headed outside, planning on cutting through the docks to head west--only to see Nadine, Chloe, and Sam there already, standing outside the restaurant. 

One minute earlier

"Aaaand what are we doing here exactly?" Sam asked, smoking a cigarette and looking around aimlessly. Nadine was leaning against the restaurant's wall, and Chloe was over by the waterline looking for seals. "Don't ask me," Chloe called back, and he turned to Nadine. She smirked, eyes closed. 

"I got up early and went over to Jameson's to ask him where Y/N lived. Turns out she lives here," she gestured with one hand vaguely at the building's second floor "above the restaurant, around the back."

Sam turned red. "Y/N is--she's--"

"Here, yes." Nadine's eyes opened and she raised an eyebrow. "You DID want to see her, right?"

"Well, yeah!" Sam said, his voice getting sheepish and a little churlish at the forced confession. He hated giving up any ground. "But--I mean, I didn't expect her to be RIGHT HERE--"

Chloe came over, hearing actual stress in Sam's voice. "Hey, just relax, all right?" she said quietly, trying to calm him down without laughing at him. "Y/N is cool--"

"Exactly, Chloe, and what if she--" his voice, louder, suddenly got softer and he stepped closer, glancing around "I...I mean, Chloe...what if she says no. If she says NO, then I..." he actually looked helpless, and Chloe felt bad for him. Nadine did, too, secretly. 

"Oh! Morning guys," you said sweetly as you rounded the corner. And Sam jerked upright as if he'd actually been electrocuted. 

(please God don't cough again)

You started to walk by them, when Chloe spoke up. "Figured out any plans for today, Y/N, or are you free? Because WE--" she threw a thumb back at Nadine and the rapidly-reddening Sam-- "have an idea for you." She waggled her eyebrows goofily, and you laughed, turning to face them completely and your hands on your waist. 

Sam had never seen you in just a bra before, or in those tight pants, and the sight was doing things to him that he simply didn't want done right now. What he wouldn't give to put his hands on that tiny tiny little waist--to kiss that neck--

"Sure, I'm game," you said easily. "I was planning a hike, but nothing new. So what's up?"

Chloe seemed to freeze comically, then slowly turned her head and said "Nadine...?"

Nadine's eyes darted between the three of you as she suddenly remembered her role. She DID have a plan to set you up with Sam, but she was...forgetting her words...

Chloe's eyes bugged out at her, and Sam held his breath, head down, staring at her from the side of his vision. You looked at her too, and started speaking quietly with a little smile 

"Nadine, are you oka-"

"WE" Nadine cut you off, flushing, but went on briskly "have a job for you."

Chloe and Sam looked at her and both said "We DO?"

You looked at them, amused--these three could be a comedy trio, you figured--then slowly moved your eyes back to Nadine, who was warming back up to her topic and getting a little back on track. "Sam's brother Nate and his wife Elena--you met them?" at your friendly nod she kept going, quickly, afraid of losing the train of thought again "are doing an exclusive salvage dive on a wreck in Malaysia; parts of it are for a TV documentary" --she thought you might like that title better than just "a TV show" --"so it's well-paid, and they need a diver." 

You shifted in place, looking between them with a bashful smile "Aren't there lots of divers--"

"THE DIVER HAS TO BE--" Nadine rushed, then flushed further and groped for a second before feebly finishing "tall and (your hair color)." 

Sam let out a "jesus christ" under his breath and turned away for a second in frustration, and Chloe looked like she was really close to laughing, biting her lip hard. You blinked. 

"Really? Why?"

Nadine recovered quickly, face still red. "You'd have to ask when you got there."

"But we'll be there!" Chloe added quickly. "Nadine sometimes, and me and-and Sam--"

Sam gave out a little "aheh" laugh and tiny wave, his face only a little less red than Nadine's. 

"We'd love to have you, and it's a beautiful place," Chloe went on, sensing that Nadine had run out of bullshit and charm. "Have you ever been?"

"To Malaysia?" you said bemusedly, still smiling, "No, I haven't."

"Weeeeeelll, now's your chance!" Chloe said with great pomp and circumstance, her grin growing. "Come onnnn," she added, taking on a wheedling tone. "Just ask Jameson, all right? Surely the place could do without you for a little while, eh?" 

You looked between their faces, laughing a little, Nadine's red but resolute, Chloe's disarmingly hopeful and cheery, and Sam's red face and downturned mouth looking bashful but his eyes seeming strangely intent and fixed on yours. A cigarette had been twitching in his fingers, but stayed eerily still now.

You HAD been really bored...you rolled your eyes laughingly and nodded. "Okaaaay, I'll ask him," you said, and Chloe lunged forward to give you a hug. "YES! Y/N, you won't regret this."

 

Distracted by the exuberant hug, you missed seeing the twitch of Sam's cigarette and the turn of his smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not an expert scuba diver or anything so here's where I found the basics! https://dipndive.com/blog/pre-dive-equipment-check-and-setup-guide.html 
> 
> If you've played the games and can imagine Sam saying his childish lines in his real voice, then it makes them all the more adorable. :) 
> 
> And yes, I am aware that this is like the slowest-burn romance of romances. But the Reader has that secret past that we don't know much about yet, which is why she's holding back...
> 
> Enjoy!

Four days later, you and your new friends were on Nathan and Elena's expedition boat, the S. P. Magna. What that stood for, you hadn't known, but you'd asked Chloe and she'd said that it was sort of Sam and Nate's personal motto. A Latin one, something to do with Sir Francis Drake...

You hopped onto the main deck from the office roof that you'd been sitting on, just finishing your sandwich and preparing for a dive. It was going to be you and Nathan, with Elena doing some filming with her fancy new underwater camera. You'd been kind of nervous about being filmed--it wasn't exactly something you had experience with--and Nadine had flat-out refused to be seen on camera for the day that she'd initially been here. Chloe hadn't, however, and was turning out to be a bit of a ham. The two of you were easily becoming fast friends; actually, all of you were. They were such a fun-loving and easygoing bunch, and you found their banter hilarious. You'd been laughing more than you ever had in your memory. 

The sun glinted off your sleek wetsuit for a second, and Sam immediately straightened up. He'd been leaning against the boat's railings with Nathan, chatting and chewing on a toothpick.

"I can't believe you're actually quitting," Nathan had just said disbelievingly, looking pleasantly surprised--and more than a little relieved; he worried about his big brother and Sully's smoking more than he admitted. His warnings had always been unsuccessful, though, so this was big news. 

"Yep," Sam muttered, shifting the toothpick between his teeth and lifting his short-sleeve shirt up enough to show a bunch of Nicotine patches slapped onto his upper arm. Nate looked at them, impressed. "Although I think THIS is what's actually killing me." 

"It'll get easier, Sam," Nate laughed, and patted him on the back. "You've just gotta stick with it. You'll feel so much better! And Chloe told me what happened in India--it DEFINITELY might be better to NOT have smoke-filled lungs for stunts like that." 

"Ha!" Sam laughed sarcastically, then shook his head and fiddled with the toothpick again, looking down at the water below. "You do have a point."

Nate opened his mouth to ask the question he really wanted to ask--if it was actually because of YOU, which he had a hunch was the case--but he thought better of it. His brother really did like you--something that was obvious by how long this 'courtship' was taking--and there was no reason to call him out on it. Especially when it would just make him defensive, and might even make him do something stupid. Sam wasn't always above such things. 

He'd kept you in his sight the entire time, up on the roof where you were having lunch with Chloe, and now that you'd moved he was quick to move too, turning around to say hi. 

"You ready for this, Y/N?" he asked charmingly, thanking God that he was able to finally function around you on a longer basis. Sully had been right when he'd said that it was possible to build up a tolerance; he felt the heady buzz whenever you were around, but he could say actual sentences without coughing. And he wasn't making 'meep' noises anymore, which was a blessing in and of itself. 

"Damn right I am," you said happily, having landed spryly on the deck and now moving towards the scuba equipment. You were in your element here, and it showed. Elena stepped out from where she'd been in the office, having seen your jump; she was already wearing her own wetsuit, and video-taping with a normal camcorder. 

"When was the last time you did an archaeology dive?" he asked curiously, moving closer, and Nate stepped past him to collect his own gear beside you.

"Oh," you thought about it as you donned your weighted belt, strapping it tightly around you as you spoke "probably about two years ago, I think. And it wasn't long," you said laughingly, "nowhere near as big a wreck as this is going to be!" 

"Any idea what we're going to find down there, Nathan?" Elena asked, pointing the camera to him. It always impressed you to see how well they worked together, and how confident they were. Neither one was nervous on-camera--or, honestly, nervous about anything to your knowledge so far--and their chemistry was undeniable. It was crazy to think that what felt like a casual videotape of a diving trip among friends was actually going to be something on TV, viewed by thousands of strangers. 

"Well, the wreck is a big one, and from the preliminary little dive that Y/N and I did yesterday, we can see that the contents are spread pretty far, so we'll probably find a wide variety of stuff down there," Nathan said, sitting down and putting on his fins. "But since it was a trading vessel, it's likely that it will probably feature a good amount of shiny stuff-" he rubbed his fingers together in the common sign for money, with a rakish grin "because we know that it was on its way back from an expedition."

"So they'd done the sale and gotten paid, and they were on their way back?" You said, putting on your BCD and strapping the inflatable buoyancy compensator around your torso. You hadn't meant to talk much on camera, but underwater archaeology and shipwrecks WERE fascinating. Sam smiled and lounged against the railing confidently to watch you again, knowing that your focus was on Nathan and his stare wouldn't be caught. 

"Yep!" Nate said cheerfully, catching up to you equipment-wise and putting on his tank before turning to help you with yours. "Here's hoping we're right. Sam here thinks we're going to be rich--" he said jokingly, nodding to his brother--and Sam jolted a little at suddenly being looked at by you AND being on television. 

"Hey, get off me!" he said only semi-good-naturedly, trying to escape before his cheeks could turn red. He waved at Elena with one hand, turning to cover his face with the other one. "I don't have my tux on!" 

"Yeah, yeah," Nate said, watching as Elena turned the camera back to him. "This one's shy," he said, winking at the viewers as he bent over to lift your tank and help you with it. When filled, the tanks were pretty heavy and could be cumbersome to put on alone. 

"No I'm not!" Sam shouted off-camera, taking the toothpick out of his mouth to yell. "But yeah we are!" You laughed, buckling all your straps; Sam could act like such a little kid, and you found it so funny that you giggled like a schoolgirl.

"You're not even the one diving," Nathan retorted, and Elena let it play, knowing that the brotherly banter was pure comedy gold. 

"I'm providing moral support!" 

"What about physical support?" Elena asked, laughing, her pragmatism coming through. "You can help me get this guy into the water." She turned the camera for a second to gesture at the larger underwater camera that was ready to go. 

"Oh," Sam said, chastened, and you laughed again. He looked at you, grinning happily, and Elena made sure she got all of it as she smiled to herself. 

Once Nathan was in and treading water, you sat down against the lowest part of the railing to tip yourself backwards into the water for the dive. The weight of the tank made this the best way to get in, and was a helpful way to avoid losing your mask at the impact. 

You were about to put said mask on when Sam stepped forward. 

"Wait!"

You and Elena both looked at him, confused. "What?" you asked, and Sam suddenly looked flustered. 

"You...you're not gonna say anything? Like 'alley-oop' or anything?"

Elena burst out laughing. "'Alley-oop', Sam? Really?"

"What?" his voice went up a little as he defended himself. "It's a cool thing to say!"

You shook your head, giggling, but said "Okay, Sam," watching his smile grow bigger to match your own. You looked at the camera in a moment of confidence, shrugged as best you could under the equipment, and said "Alley-oop." 

Then you went in, distantly hearing Sam yell "but with more ENTHUSIASM!"


	12. Chapter 12

It had been one week since you'd arrived in Malaysia, and the dive was going well. It wasn't exactly a humongous gold mine like Nate and Sam had hoped, but there WAS money in the wreck, as well as some particularly valuable artifacts. There were also a few reef sharks to be found around the wreck, and one hammerhead shark--a big novelty for you, since you'd never actually seen a hammerhead in person. 

Overall, spirits were high--and the fun conversations and the casual nights, sitting on the boat's roof and sipping beers, all made it feel like a party. You couldn't believe you had never taken the initiative to leave South Africa before. 

Tonight, Sam and Nathan were laying back on their elbows, shifting to drink their beers once in a while, while you, Chloe, and Elena were sitting up in front of them, your legs hanging off the edge. Chloe was brimming with curiosity about, well, EVERYTHING, and she'd been peppering you with questions today in particular. You did your best to deflect the bad ones, keeping the focus on the flashy stuff like shark dives and restaurant guests with guns--but you had a feeling it wouldn't work that well for long. 

"So where else have you been?" Chloe asked now, stretching out her arms before reclining a little bit. Sam and Nathan were still behind you, not-so-casually listening, while Elena laid down on your left. 

You shook your head and shrugged, smiling. "Nowhere!"

"Really?" she asked, incredulous. "You've literally just been to South Africa and Boston?" 

"Yep," you said lightly, sipping your beer and hoping she'd end it there. There WAS one other place, the place you were really from...but that wasn't a story to tell. You were still a little bothered every time you remembered the glimpse you'd given Sam of yourself on the docks. You'd almost told him, and--

"Where'd you live in Boston?" Sam asked curiously, sitting up. He could sense that you didn't want to talk about this; but you'd danced away from serious topics all week, and he didn't want to waste this time with you. He felt bad for being persistent, especially in front of everyone else, but the beer and the night sky had made him feel a little reckless.

"Brighton," you replied, and it was true. That WAS where you'd been, for a few years. You'd been fourteen when you got here, and had checked yourself into an orphanage--with your sisters...

"Hey, no kiddin'. Nate and I were in Mattapan, just a couple districts over!" Sam sat up further, and Nathan moved to join him. You felt faintly amused by that; you really liked Nathan, and you thought his relationship with Sam was adorable. Nate might have been the one in charge here on the dive, but he still always followed Sam's every move and copied him just like he must have as a kid. It was insanely cute--just like Sam's natural tendency to constantly check on his baby brother (usually with little touches and affectionate questions) was. Their intrinsic connection to each other made you think of the siblings you'd lost, but you swallowed those thoughts down with another sip of beer and threw an interested smile Sam's way.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Saint Francis Boys' Home. Ever heard of it?" he said sardonically, obviously not expecting you to. 

"Actually, yes," you said, surprising him. The others perked up, and Elena lifted her head from where she'd decided to lie down. (You didn't know this, but she'd specifically chosen this pose so she could surreptitiously watch you with Sam; Elena, being the perceptive one, was just as aware of your deflections as he was). "I was at St. Agatha's Orphanage. The nuns used to call each other back and forth about kids, policies, things like that." You kept your small smile, but gazed out straight ahead at the beautiful star-studded sky, knowing that the question was coming. 

"You were in an orphanage?" Chloe asked, sitting up so straight in your side view that you couldn't help turning to look at her. It was almost comical, her reactions to things; her eyes got so big and her mouth hung wide open like a child's. 

You nodded ruefully, with a little half-shrug. "My two sisters and I."

Then you immediately felt your heart clamp down on itself tightly; had you actually just done that? YOU'D brought up your sisters, on your OWN--

Oh son of a BITCH, you thought, and you couldn't keep the dismay from hitting your face for a second before you smoothed it over; but Sam saw it. Sam had a knack for seeing everything about you, you were starting to realize. That thought made you feel a little uncomfortable. 

"Wait, your sisters?" Chloe continued. "Have you ever mentioned them before, or have I just gone crazy?" 

Sam opened his mouth to cut her off and change the subject, the recklessness from before vanishing when he saw the pain on your face. It had only been present for an instant, but he knew it had been there, and he suddenly felt like a real ass for pushing the questions and encouraging Chloe.

Hearing the little intake of his breath and seeing him subtly shift forward, you briskly kept talking; if he tried to help, it would only make things more awkward, and besides--you'd opened your stupid mouth about your sisters for a reason. Maybe it was just the quiet power of beautiful late nights like this, but part of you wanted to tell them...

"No, I haven't." Your tone was sad, but light, and you kept your little smile on to keep her from feeling bad. "We were triplets, but not identical. They were brunettes," you said faintly. "Ruby and Penny. They're the ones who really loved shark diving; Ruby was an incredible marine biologist, and Penny had an unbelievable knack for photographing them. Even in the worst visibility out in Shark Alley, with dozens of twenty-foot sharks around, she could do it." You laughed a little, feeling strangely...relieved, or something--to talk. Your sisters had been amazing, and you'd absolutely adored them. You might have been the oldest, but they were the stars. 

"When did they die?" Chloe's voice was very quiet. You held your beer a tiny bit tighter, and let out a sigh, staring straight ahead again sadly. "Five years ago. We'd only been out of the orphanage for three years; we were barely even old enough to drink." You raised your beer for a second at that comment in an infinitesimal attempt to be light-hearted. "They already knew what they wanted to do, and South Africa is THE place to be for shark research, so I tagged along."

"I'm really sorry," Sam said softly; you glanced at him and could see his eyes shining somberly in the moonlight. You let out a small laugh. "Oh, hey, it's a dangerous job. They knew that, and they loved it, they really did. Didn't matter what time of year or how cold the water was, they were always in it. Not to mention the patrols." You sipped your beer, looking forward again. "We saved a lot of kids." 

"Still," Sam whispered after a moment. You didn't know what to say anymore, so you shrugged a little and looked out at the watery stars, reflections from the real ones up above, and tried to focus on the soothing nature of the boat bobbing. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, before Chloe found some way to artfully change the subject, and soon everyone started heading down to bed. You only dimly heard Sam ask you something the first time, then blinked back to reality and looked at him. He was closer now, crouched next to you on your right in preparation to descend, but his dark eyes were completely focused on you. "You okay?" he asked, and you felt his left hand on the back of your neck delicately. It was a similar touch to the bracing neck-squeezes that he often gave Nathan, but much more gentle, and you didn't quite know what to make of it. You did know, however, that you temporarily stopped breathing. 

He seemed to, too, and it took all of the courage in Sam's gut to make him keep his hand there. His courage almost failed, and his fingers twitched for a second on your neck in a knee-jerk urge to draw back, but he reined it in and kept his fingers soft on your skin covering the top of your spine. He told himself it was just concern, even though his entire mind couldn't stop recognizing that this was the first time he'd really touched you...

You nodded, the movement making his hand rub your neck momentarily, and making you feel like your breath was never going to come back. At that, you immediately shifted under him to prepare to hop down, feeling his hand lift off of you. He stayed crouched down to watch you go. "Yeah. Thanks," you said quietly, a tiny smile showing your good cheer. You WERE feeling better, or if not better then...a little bit like a weight had been lifted. You didn't really want to go to sleep, yet, though; you knew you'd just be laying in your bunk, mind too full and the star-lit night too quiet. 

Sam seemed to read your thoughts on your face--how, you had no idea, since you were still consciously smiling--and hopped down suddenly to beat you to the ground, landing right when you stepped down but with a solid thud. He was close to you, closer than you expected, and you looked up at him in the moonlight, tremulous. 

"Do you...want another drink?" he asked, and you felt your breath come back with a little sigh (the noise of which made his own breath catch). "Yeah, sure," you smiled in a breathy voice, relieved to have someone to stay up with. You wouldn't have to be out here on this beautiful night, with these thoughts, alone.


	13. Chapter 13

The moonlight was still shining as you leaned forward against the bow's railing, making the whole night blue and black and silver. You could hear the other three downstairs, and hear the comforting sounds of them getting ready for bed with friendly chatter and routine noises. It made you smile a little; this was a beautiful night, despite the somber topic from earlier.

Sam came back around the bend from the cooler with two new beers, moving uncharacteristically quietly and softly. He opened them deftly, impressing you, then handed you one cold, dripping one. You took it with a quiet 'thanks' and a smile, taking a first sip and going back to looking out over the bejewelled starlit water. 

"It's funny," Sam said, now wearing a light denim jacket since a small breeze had picked up. You looked at him, your elbows bent over the railing, and he was smiling slowly as he took his own sip. He glanced at you for a second with a little shake of his head, and smirked as he looked straight ahead too. "Didn't take you for a beer girl." 

There was a light-hearted question in his sentence, and you let out a little 'hm' of laughter. "No?" 

He looked you up and down now, taking this rarely granted excuse to flagrantly look a woman all the way up and down, and smirked still. The beers he'd already had were giving him some new confidence. After a moment of savoring the view, he moved his eyes back up to yours and said, in a 'duh' kind of voice, "Uh, no." 

You laughed again and took another sip. "And that's what you were drinking the first night we met, right?" He said, immediately cringing inwardly when he realized he'd brought up the night he was flat-out drunk and acted like an ass. 

You laughed a little louder at that, nodding and looking down at the water directly below you for a second. "What were you boys drinking that night, anyway?" 

Sam suddenly looked shifty. "Eh, the usual. Scotch. Whiskey. Scotch. Rum. Beer. Scotch. Oh," he snapped his fingers "and tequila."

You laughed. "Jameson DOES like tequila." 

"Could feel my hula skirt appearing as we were drinking it," Sam murmured huskily after a second, hesitating to make the joke and then deciding to just go for it. It paid off, since you giggled, and he marveled again at the experience of talking to a girl who actually appreciated his jokes, dirty or corny as they were.

"You're the first girl who's liked that, by the way," he ventured, the moonlight doing things to him again. Or maybe it was the way it shone in your eyes, or the way the wind was making your hair blow a little, or his rising desire to touch you again. 

"Liked what, that joke?" You asked. 

"Believe it or not, but not every person in the world likes my jokes and thinks I'm the most charming hilarious person ever," he said, gesturing grandly to himself. 

You laughed again, and sipped more beer. 

He ran a hand over his neck, wishing he was running it over yours instead. He wanted to start staring at it--

"I was pretty embarrassed to be seen that drunk," he said with a sheepish laugh, the 'I' dragging out a little to show his reluctance to admit it. 

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with having a little fun," you said lightly, sipping the drink, and too late realized what you'd said. 

His eyes locked on you, you could feel it, and fortunately he couldn't see you turning a little red. You kept your eyes ahead, your smile normal.

Sam was dumbstruck, and starting to get a little excited. If you were anyone else, he'd have thought that was flirting...

But you pushed the conversation back on steadier ground, memories forcing the flirt down. "I take it you're a night owl?" You said, glancing at him. 

He took a second to respond, thrown by the change, then leaned forward more closely, matching your pose. His fingers twitched; you assumed he must have wanted a cigarette, badly. But Sam's fingers were actually twitching to touch you, the cigarettes temporarily forgotten in favor of another high. 

Leaning, he said, "You could say that." 

You didn't really have a response, so there was silence for a moment before he spoke again. "You too, I take it? You're like me, only needing a couple hours?" 

"Yeah," you said. "Mostly out of necessity."

"Heh," Sam replied thoughtfully. "Same here." His late-night visits to Nathan at the orphanage had made that the case, years ago. Yours were due to the patrols. 

"You and Nathan get along so well," you said suddenly, your voice soft and thoughtful. "Penny and Ruby fought like cats and dogs." It came out with a small laugh that was a little wet, and you stiffened at hearing your own emotion, quickly shifting in place to recover and regain stability. 

Sam picked up on it immediately, and was torn between concern for you and relief that you were bringing them up yourself. He'd been starting to be afraid that the rooftop conversation was as close as he was going to get, but also hadn't wanted to bring it up again and make the light go out of your eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N." His voice sounded serious and deep, earnest enough for you to look at him for more than a glance. For some reason it felt scary to hold contact with his eyes, but you breathed tightly and did it anyway, assuming he'd interpret it as emotion about your sisters. 

"I'm so sorry you lost your sisters." He stepped closer. "Really." 

You kept looking at him, and could clearly hear the tears in your own voice now as you spoke with an unbearably sad smile. "You would have liked them," you swiped at your eyes a little, and he tensed with the urge to hug you. "They were the life of the party." Another wet laugh. "They just entered the room, and...LIT it up." You gestured like fireworks briefly with your free hand, still smiling. "They were like Austin Powers, really." You both laughed a little at that, but his face was still searching yours. "Men wanted to be with them and women wanted to BE them." 

"You too?" He asked quietly. 

You huffed a tiny laugh. "Nah, I was background. I liked it there better." 

"You're not background," it came out of his mouth so confidently, so easily, that it genuinely surprised you both. There was a moment of flabbergasted expressions, then little chuckles. 

"Well, thanks." You shrugged a little, looking away for a second. 

"Come on, seriously. There's no way you're a wallflower." He stepped even closer, and for a second you thought he was going to put a hand around you. He almost did; God knows he wanted to. 

"Didn't you get to have any fun, too? Go out dancing, be the belle of the ball?" He gestured vaguely, miming fancy dancing, and you felt him draw another laugh out of you. Crazy, how easily he did that, your brain mentioned. You tried to shut it down to no avail. 

"No! Girls travel in packs, especially when partying with strangers, and there's the general rules." You gestured even more vaguely, and his concerned face changed to his Sam face--an interested, attractive smirk. He leaned his head back and raised an eyebrow, gesturing with his hands for you to continue. 

"Oh, REALLY. Enlighten me, please." 

You laughed, relaxing a little more as the conversation lightened up again. Your beer bottle moved in your hand as you talked. "Well generally whoever finds a guy to dance with or spend the night with goes first when it comes to drinking and having fun. And if you're last, you're automatically the safety. You stay relatively sober and keep an eye on them and make sure they end up home. And I," you gestured at yourself with a flourish, "was always last." 

Sam's eyebrows raised. Were you telling him that you were a virgin? 

No. No way. You couldn't be--that would be too perfect, he was definitely being pranked--

You hadn't realized that your statement could be misinterpreted to mean such assumptions, and so you assumed his incredulity was from something else.

"Yeah," you said laughingly, sipping your beer, "my sisters were really THAT charming." 

Sam was having a hard time focusing. A virgin--you were a virgin--holy fucking shit--

"Sam?" You asked, a little worried now. "You okay?" 

"Y-yeah," he stammered, chugging the rest of his beer as a cover to collect his words, and thoughts, and...everything else, from the gutter where he'd dropped them. He felt a little bit like he was about to collapse--and, alternatively, like he should be sweeping the whole boat for hidden prank cameras.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, you woke up to find Chloe bouncing all over the boat like a pinball. Nadine was coming back today, and staying for a little while, and her girlfriend was over-the-top excited. You thought it was adorable, and spent a good deal of time watching her dance around and chatter excitedly at you. She was like a little kid, bursting with excitement and telling you every story about Nadine that she could think of. 

Sam and Nathan were nearby, Nathan talking and Sam smoking the electric cigarette that his baby brother had just surprised him with. He was clearly excited to be back to cigarettes, even though it was a fake one, and you grinned. As lethal as cigarettes were, you couldn't deny that he had looked... cool, or something, while smoking them. (The word you were looking for, but that your subconscious was too polite to find, was 'sexy'.) And you really, really liked the way his voice sounded when he talked while keeping them in his mouth. 

Actually, you'd come to the realization last night that you just really liked it when he talked, even in general. Something about his voice...after he'd gotten weirdly flustered for a few minutes, he'd rebounded back, and you'd spent the next few hours listening to his crazy stories and silly jokes, having a grand old time.

Eventually the breeze had gotten a little stronger, and your body had shivered automatically, and he'd interrupted his story to say "You cold?", already stripping off his denim jacket and lifting it on and around you snugly, his hands pressing it down for a second before he stepped back and said with a cough "ahem, like I was just saying--" 

It was a wonder he could speak, Sam had thought repeatedly for the next hour, because you looked really, really good in his jacket. Seeing you in his clothes was doing something to him...

He distracted both of you with his most absurd stories yet, making you laugh a lot, until he eventually saw your long long lashes blink a little more slowly and said "Alright, let's go to bed." 

The sentence could have been normal, but it came out so strongly and fervently--since HIS traitorous mind had meant something very very different when he said it--that he choked a little on a 'meep' and held his breath and hoped to God you hadn't noticed how passionately he'd said the line. 

As it so happened, you HAD noticed something, but it wasn't his reaction; it was yours. You felt a nervous smile hit your face when he said it, and felt your cheeks turning red, and covered both with a slightly off-kilter laugh. Fortunately, his own worry about you noticing kept HIM from noticing. 

Now, you sat with Elena listening to Chloe and watching her cheerful antics, but the memory of only a few hours ago was rapidly becoming your focus. You'd never really...felt that way about a man, that weird buzzy feeling and blush and loss of breath. And you'd had offers, sure, but you'd never really actually wanted to have sex with any of the men who'd propositioned you (some more crudely or directly than others). Their offers had either been something distantly amusing to you, or something trifling that you brushed off like a particularly persistent fruit fly. 

You thought, from those weird feelings last night, that this time you might. And it was kind of starting to freak you out. 

Sam glanced at you from his peripheral vision, watching your skin shine in the sunlight and your hair glow. You looked content and relaxed while you watched Chloe, but distant, like your mind was on something else. 

 

His brow furrowed, just for a second, but Nathan caught it. "What is it?" He asked. Sam kept his eyes on you, but squinted a little bit, smoking his new cigarette.

"Something's wrong with Y/N" he said quietly in that husky murmur of his. Nate looked up past Sam to you, then back to his big brother. "Really?" He asked, and Sam glanced at him. "Yeah, can't you tell?" 

"Nope," Nate said, smiling a little. "She looks perfectly normal and beautiful and happy to me..." He nudged Sam a little, affectionately. "But not you, you can read her like a book." Sam preened a little at that, straightening and puffing his chest infinitesimally with a smirk through his cigarette, but Nate picked up on it right away, and elbowed him lightly with a smile. 

"You really like her, huh." There was no challenge or mockery in his voice, so for once Sam didn't feel self-conscious and defensive. 

With a groan he looked down and started to light another cigarette, before remembering that he didn't need to do it. "Yeah," came out as a resigned, throaty grumble. 

"Hey, that's OKAY, Sam," he said softly with a little chuckle. "I can read Elena the same way. That's how it IS when it's the right person." 

Chloe called something out to him, and Nathan stepped away--but not before giving him a huge, signature Nathan grin, and a pat on the shoulder. 

Bolstered a little by Nathan's support, Sam looked back up at you--and found himself growing still more concerned about what was bothering you. Now that he knew what your REAL smiles looked like, he wanted to make sure they happened all the time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is so cute :)

As it turned out, having Nadine Ross around made the whole trip even more like a party. She wasn't an archaeologist, or a diver, but she was an inherently-badass person with a surprisingly funny sense of humor, who made Chloe ecstatically happy--and her grudgingly-growing friendship with Sam was amusing to watch, at least for you. Nate and Elena also got a kick from watching the two of them not-so-subtly compete for your attention, Nadine because she enjoyed your company and was hoping you'd become close friends, and Sam because...well...it was obvious.

And growing more obvious, if his little touches were any indication. It was always just little bits of contact; he'd put his hand on your shoulder or your waist as he walked by you, usually with a cheerful "'Scuse me" if he was going by or a "Hey there" as a greeting. It only lasted for a moment each time, and he usually managed to sneak up on you somehow while you were talking to Elena or something, so all he ever got in return was an "Oh--hi!" from you as he glided by. But for Sam, that was enough; he was riding high. And he was rapidly discovering that he wanted to keep touching you, all the time. 

You, on the other hand, were still trying somewhat desperately to avoid any more moments like the moonlit ones from before. You really, really liked Sam, and you realized that more and more every time that you saw him. Literally, EVERY time. He made you laugh, louder and longer and more genuinely and more OFTEN than anyone else ever had, even your sisters. He was sardonic, and caustic, and tough and smart, but he was also very very sweet and childlike at times. Not to mention his protectiveness over his baby brother made you feel all weird and fuzzy on the inside. It made you want to go "awwww" out loud--and you were not usually somebody who did that. 

Today, you were doing another dive with Nathan; it had been rough seas yesterday, not very rough but rough enough that the dive was a little choppier than usual, and that there were hardly any sharks around. If it was deeper water, they would have been there regardless of the surface water's behavior, but these shallow depths meant that choppy waters were a problem or a nuisance for them as well as for divers. 

The water was smooth and flat today--prime conditions for sharks--and you and Nate could see the boat up above you as clearly as if you were looking through a window. This was a particularly shadowed section of the wreck, unique since most of the wreck's debris was very well-lit and visible. But not so with the section today. 

You and Nate had just finished marking the area with flags, mapping out the area that you wanted to use metal detectors in, when instinct made you look to your right suddenly and see a shark. It was a hammerhead, decently sized, and it had just started circling. You tossed a pebble at Nathan, seeing it as the easiest way to get his attention fast, and it bopped off of his hand delicately in slow-motion. He looked up at you, and you sent him the pre-arranged signal that meant "shark circling". He sent his own signal back, asking if you wanted to go up, and you answered in the affirmative. You weren't sure why, since you'd already seen a shark out here and it had only been curious, but today you had a bad feeling. The two of you moved close together and looked up and around to ascend--then just as you did, another, bigger shark filled your vision just over your heads. You immediately signaled him for the flare--you had a few, each different to meant different things--and he fired it off. The two of you huddled under the surface together, retreating down to the ocean floor again and waiting. 

On the boat's deck, Elena and Sam were watching, with Chloe and Nadine sitting and chatting nearby. When the flare went off, bursting out of the water fiercely, Elena and Sam jerked back. 

"Oh, SHIT--" Elena said, sounding panicked, and she rushed to the bag of supplies next to her, frantically going through it. 

"What--wait, what the hell does that mean?" Sam asked, rapidly getting nervous, his voice getting louder with every word. "ELENA WHAT'S THAT MEAN--" he asked, and Chloe and Nadine got up, concerned, but Elena ignored them all as she quickly assembled the devices she was looking for.

"Elena..." Chloe said, looking worried, and Sam stood up on the boat's bench, poised to jump off, glancing between Elena and the water like he was a tense swimmer eager for the starting gun. Both of his most important people were in there--

Elena dropped down one of the percussion grenades, and waited until a strange wave burst underwater outwards from where she'd dropped it. Then she immediately dropped another, and another, all the while ignoring Sam and Chloe's frantic questions. 

Elena already had her wetsuit on, and knew that Chloe was the closest to a diver out of the three of the others, so she jumped up to go in, grabbing a spear gun as she went. "Shit--" Sam's face paled when he saw that, "Elena--" 

"Chloe! With me!" She said, and Chloe wordlessly jumped up to go in too. Sam's face was white. "Elena let me HELP--"

The two of them dove in briskly, and Sam and Nadine stared overboard, Sam pacing frantically and running a hand through his hair. "Shit-shit-shit"

Nadine wanted to comfort him, but didn't know what to say. All she could do was watch the water, worried. 

"Jesus Christ Nadine," she heard him whimper, the sound seeming strange in his husky voice, and she put a hand on his arm and did something she never did: made an empty promise. 

"They'll be fine, Sam," she said softly. He was still staring at the water, and she could feel his shoulder and back muscles vibrating underneath his white tank top. 

Moments later, the water crackled and cracked in splashes as Elena and Chloe appearing, awkwardly carrying two bodies. 

"Nathan first!" Elena gasped, since he was obviously the heavier of the two, and Sam and Nadine rushed to pull him on-deck from her grasp. 

"They're fine!" Chloe said, sensing Sam's panic. "Just unconscious!" She bobbed up and down in the water, shifting her grip constantly and kicking hard to keep holding you. Seeing that Nathan was okay and already moving, Sam jerked back to the railing to help and stared at your (H/C) hair drifting in the water around you. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. 

"Up! Sam, HELP!" Elena snapped, her firm tone getting through. He got back down to help lift, and Nadine didn't even have to help since you were so light and his grip was so strong. Chloe and Elena quickly swam to the short little ladder and climbed out, breathing heavily but otherwise unharmed, Chloe's normal clothes soaked through. Nadine handed her a towel and gave her a quick hug as Elena helped Nate sit up and took of his mask and tank. 

"Elena!" Sam's voice was completely panicked and breaking a little bit, making Nate's eyes open faster at the sound of his brother's distress. "F-fine, she's FINE Sam," he coughed out, water leaving with the words. Sam relaxed a little at seeing his brother breathing well, and at his statement, but he didn't stop holding you against his chest.

"Keep her upright," Elena said softly, feeling bad for snapping before as she took off your mask and awkwardly pulled off the tank portion of your gear. Getting Sam to let go even that much was a struggle. "Let go for a second, Sam, I've got to take off her tank! She's just unconscious from the grenade." Sam yielded, but only for a second. Nadine came over to help with the tank, even though it was lighter since some air had been used, and Elena murmured her thanks. Nadine was pleased to be useful; lifting was one of her strengths. 

"Jesus CHRIST, Elena, why the hell did you hit 'em with a GRENADE?" Sam asked, his own stress coming out in a tense snap. 

"Actually, THREE grenades," Chloe pointed out helpfully, and Nadine gave her a look. The still-sopping Chloe shrugged, getting back to her lighthearted self. "What? She did!" 

"They're PERCUSSION grenades, against sharks," Elena said, recognizing Sam's anger for concern. She smoothed your hair back gently away from your face; your skin was still glistening from the water, and your expression was serene as you leaned against Sam and in his arms. It looked like you were a mermaid scuba diver, but sleeping. Sam held you tightly, his own arms and chest soaking now, his biceps flexing as he kept you close. He looked down at you like a person holding a baby. 

"That particular flare meant sharks, and they both knew that this was the planned response to sharks," she explained plainly, hoping he'd calm down soon. And maybe let go of you. "Nate and Y/N knew what they were doing, Sam. They knew they'd be hit hard. These ones are specifically designed for it; they knock out humans if you do more than one, but for everything else in the water that's enough to be just like a really really really strong wave. The sharks are fine; they've just been pushed several hundred yards away," she gestured vaguely to the water. 

"Why so MANY grenades?" Sam asked, his ire still not entirely gone. "And she'd better fucking wake up--" 

"She WILL, Sam," Elena said patiently, "We agreed to do so many because up here, I have no idea of knowing the situation, so it's better to assume the worst and respond heavily. Down there, they could have suddenly been surrounded. They could have been too scared to fire another flare to signal the severity of the situation, or they might have been hiding somewhere while they were stalked, or--"

Sam's face paled even more. "Stalked?"

Elena quickly realized her error; perhaps words like "stalked" weren't the BEST to calm him...

"Not stalked," Chloe said awkwardly, trying to pitch in and make some degree of color come back into his face. "Just...pursued. Followed, but like by a friendly person--" Nadine gave her another look, and Chloe sighed. "Okay, dude, you've got to relax," she said to Sam finally, giving up. "You look worse than she does!" 

It was true. Sam looked like he was actually going to pass out. Nate coughed again, hard, then straightened up and, still sitting, sidled slowly over to Sam. Elena watched him nervously, but he waved her off. "I'm fine, Elena," he said hoarsely, wearing a smile while coughing again "Th-those grenades really pack a punch! Goddamn!"

"You're telling me," Sam muttered, but his brother's cough was enough for him to check in with him with a look. "You okay?" Nate nodded, and clapped his big brother on the back weakly. "Yeah," he rasped. "Hey, we've both been through worse, right?"

Sam let out a feeble little laugh, and returned to staring at you after one more lingering look at his younger brother. Nate's brow furrowed a little; he hated to worry Sam more, but--

"Elena, shouldn't she be up by now--"

You let out a sudden cough and lurched forward, bending over to cough more in vicious hacks, left hand going to your head. Sam had no choice but to relax his hold on you, although his arms still stayed around you in a wide net. He felt immeasurable relief sink his body, and for a second actually contemplated laying flat on the ground and passing out. THAT was easier than this. 

"There she is!" Chloe chirped cheerily, and everyone smiled with unspoken relief. 

After a couple more coughs, still unaware that it was Sam's arms who were holding you, you started to focus on your very-throbbing head. 

"Owwwwwww", you muttered testily. Nate grimaced. "Right? This is really gonna leave a mark--" he winced and leaned his head back so Elena could check his eyes for a concussion. He swatted at her irritably. "Nate, I need to look at--STOP IT, Nate--" Elena's voice was filled with laughter while she tried to fight through his childlike swats and use the penlight. "Just hold-still--" Eventually he succumbed; you were too busy holding your head, eyes closed, and whimpering. Those whimpers did something to Sam, and he couldn't help tightening his hold on you again. 

(Stupid fucking sharks.)

"THANK YOU. What a good patient," Elena said sarcastically, but she was smiling. "Okay, you're not concussed. Y/N?" 

As she was moving over to you, crouched down, you started hearing Sam's smooth Boston accent in your hair--and realized dimly that it was his arms around you. Fortunately, you were too zonked out to be embarrassed.

"How you doing? You okay?" Sam asked. "Jeeeeesuuuuus CHRIST, you gave me a hell of a scare." You felt him shift you further upright, posing your head gently for Elena to examine. You let out another whimper. "Sorry, baby, I'm sorry," he murmured anxiously, both of you too out of it to realize what he'd just called you "Sorry..."

"Hey, Y/N," Elena said nicely and ruefully. "Fun dive, huh?" You winced at the light, but stayed still for her. She chuckled. "You're a much better patient than Nathan." 

"Heyyy!" Nate protested weakly, as he sagged against a nearby boat bench, but she was already well-practiced at ignoring him and just stuck with her patient, focused smile. 

"Doesn't look like you're concussed either, Y/N, but you guys should take it easy for the rest of the day. No more diving, okay?" You both nodded, and winced again at the movement. Elena laughed. "And maybe no more nodding." 

As she stepped away to help Nate to his feet, Sam started doing the same. You felt his arms slide down to your waist, going around your ribs and gently tugging and tightening to bodily lift you upwards. For a second you were just being completely vertically lifted by him, feeling like a rag-doll, and your feet crumpled upon contact with the floor before you got your balance. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, sounding more like his smooth-talking self again, basically hugging you from behind "No need to get knocked off your feet by me just yet. What can I say, Nadine?" he said, speaking softer than usual but still calling out sassily "The ladies just swoon over me!" 

Nadine rolled her eyes, smiling, and Chloe and the others laughed. You let out a weak, watery giggle, and Sam felt his heart soar to hear it. God help him if you ever got a cold. 

After a moment, you settled on your feet, and he reluctantly moved to just hold you at the waist lightly, still from behind. "You good?" he asked, smiling but his grip still telling you that he was a little nervous. You nodded breathily, saying "Thanks Sam." "Hey, no nodding," he said sternly, his Boston accent coming out strong, but there was still a grin on his face as he moved you over to sit near Nathan and rest. You sat back with Nathan, both of you bent over a bit and still coughing a little, and Sam felt immeasurably shaky at the sound. He let out a big whoosh of his own husky breath, one hand on his abs delicately. 

(Goddamnit, now I need to sit down too.)

(And a cigarette.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the cutscene when Sam gets relieved that Evelyn lowers the gun, and he breathes out in relief with one hand on his abs? That might be young Sam but it's that same adorable move exactly at the end here. (Also, young Sam... <3 ) 
> 
> I remember watching something about "shark grenades" on Shark Week years ago, which gave me the idea, but I think those were scent-releasing-grenades or something. I don't recommend using percussion grenades or anything else like that on animals!! (I mean, come to think of it, I don't really recommend free-diving with wild sharks anyway haha) 
> 
> I'm not a shark or diving expert! And the underwater archaeology stuff is just what I remember from watching Into The Blue. I hope you enjoyed!


	16. Chapter 16

The sun was starting to head down towards the horizon a few hours later; you and Nate had been sitting around, Elena recruiting Sam and Nadine and Chloe to help with whatever was needed, and now everyone else was done for the day too. Chloe had discovered that she excelled at making sandwiches, if nothing else, and you and Nate were both just finishing yours up when the others arrived, sitting around you in a relaxed cacophony of witty banter. 

You'd been leaning your head back against the top of the bench, Nathan doing the same; every time you tried to move, even just to sit up a little, your body ached as if you had a serious case of the flu, and you lay back again with a little breath and stopped trying. To any newcomer, it would have just looked like the two of you were sunbathing. 

You felt Sam sit down between the two of you, and opened your eyes a little to see him put his arms around both of you lightly. He looked to Nathan first, squeezing him very gently. "How you doin', little brother?" 

Nathan groaned. "Feels like someone had a blanket party with a tire iron. Or, you know, three heavy-duty percussion grenades." They both laughed a little at that, and Sam shifted his focus to you. His voice got lower. 

"You okay?"

You were going to nod, but Sam was already putting up a finger in warning. "Hey!" He said, his accent strong again as he spoke in a mockingly-warning tone "No nodding! Remember the doctor's orders." He gestured towards Elena, who grinned back, and you smiled blearily and closed your eyes again for a second, breathing slow. 

"Y/N, you sure you're okay?" Elena asked worriedly. "You're not bouncing back quite as fast as this guy over here." She nodded towards her husband affectionately. 

"Hey, it's not a contest," Nate said sweetly, shifting a little with a groan. "Besides, Y/N isn't quite as used to blowing shit up as I am." 

Everyone laughed at that, and your eyes opened enough to see Sam's on you. The hand that was around your shoulders was softly rubbing back and forth, the fingers gliding over your wetsuit-clad arm in a light rhythm. You weren't sure if he was doing it on purpose, but it felt nice...

You closed your eyes again with a 'hm' and lay back, listening to them talk. 

An hour later, Nathan was sitting up and joining in the chatter while you were only just getting around to shifting a little in your seat. Sam had stayed with you the whole time, talking and joking and making you laugh with your eyes closed. He deliberately kept his voice a little softer than usual, though, worrying that it might hurt your head. 

Sam was also, in fact, extremely aware of what he was doing with his hand on your arm. Your shark incident had given him an excuse to hold you, and caress you, and he was extremely reluctant to give the opportunity up anytime soon. For the first few minutes he'd been hyper-aware of your body language, waiting to see if you'd shift to get away from his hand or not--and conveniently forgetting that even if you wanted to, you were too sore to do so. Since you hadn't moved away, and still hadn't moved since, he was keeping his hand there for as long as you would let him, too determined to even care about the witnesses. No one mentioned it, although they were all observant enough to notice, and Nadine praised herself internally, since it was her idea that had gotten you here and given Sam his shot. 

Chloe sensed her girlfriend's childlike pride and smirked at it before getting up and stretching. "Well, guys, it's time for bed for me. I don't know about the rest of you mates, but the stars aren't going to be out tonight and all this excitement has tuckered me out." 

She held up a hand to Nadine, who wordlessly took it with a smile to stand, and Elena laughed and did the same. "You're right there," she said, moving towards Nate, "and you two could probably use some sleep, too. Or" she helped Nate up, who grunted a little "YOU could." 

You opened your eyes a little, and felt Sam looking between her and you nervously. "What're you talkin' about?" 

"Y/N, I want you to stay up a little longer. Just to make sure, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," you sighed sleepily with a little smile. Elena didn't look convinced. "Sam, keep her awake for me." 

Sam laughed, unable to believe his luck. "Hey, you know the ladies can never bear to be unconscious around me."

There was silence for a moment, then Sam reddened. "That...came out wrong."

"Yep," you murmured sweetly, then let out a giggle that made Sam ignore everyone else's accompanying laughs. 

As they headed downstairs, the sun halfway down, he turned to you in the golden light, still holding you. You felt his hand squeeze your arm very lightly for a second, as if fondling it, and opened your eyes to watch him, too sleepy and beat-up to really care about propriety or to feel weird about the stare. 

Thrown by the look, his face grew earnest; the hand squeezed your arm again, staying a little squeezed this time, and the arm that was around you settled to be heavier as it cocooned your body. The sun's haze was making his eyes look almost gold... 

Then he smirked.

"So, Y/N, now that you have me alone, what should we do?"


	17. Chapter 17

Your smile at Sam faded into a smaller one as you closed your eyes again slowly. So sleepy--

"Nope! Nope nope nope, whooaaa there," he said rapidly, chuckling sardonically and immediately sitting up straighter to prop you up against him--a pleasant situation that he was exceedingly aware of. Grinning, he shifted his arm around you and raised his other one to hold you in more of a loose hug with both, turning you so that you almost faced him on the bench. "You've gotta stay awake, remember? Come on--" he snapped his fingers lightly for a second, but was quick to put that hand back around you. It was for support, he told himself. Definitely NOT the fact that this was the most he'd gotten to touch you by far-

"You still with me?"

"Mm." You opened your eyes a little more with your tiny little response, and the way they fixed on him made Sam lose his bravado for a second. "Uhmm, hey," was all he could murmur back. 

(Jesus Christ I'm holding her)

If you hadn't been YOU, and been so out of it, he would've tried for a kiss. Instead, he forced his usual grin onto his face until it started to feel more natural there, and ground out "Ohhhh no you don't, Y/N, AWAKE is the name of the game, remember? Come on" he gave you a cute little shake, and you couldn't help laughing. This haziness felt a little bit like being tipsy. "talk to me. Okay, here's what we're gonna do." His voice got brusque and business-like after a second, his grin growing more and more charming. "You do all the talking, okay? Not me. I know I tend to be a wallflower anyway, but tonight it's all YOU. Okay?" 

He raised an eyebrow at you teasingly, and you started to nod--then promptly winced. "No nodding!" he said, chuckling now. "TALKING, Y/N, TALKING!" 

"Okay," you said weakly, in a good-natured mutter, and he laughed again. "THERE ya go. Talking. English. Vowels. That other one I can never remember." 

"C-consonants," you giggled, and the sound made his heart flutter. Goddamnit, he hoped he didn't 'meep'. He'd just finally gotten his tolerance up when it came to you--God help him if it gave out now--

Your head swirled again for a second, and you felt like you were in a big warm blanket. Too out of it to notice that it was actually Sam's arms, you made a little humming noise out of comfort. And Sam started feeling an entirely DIFFERENT issue present itself inside his pants. He'd just never heard you make a sound like that before--

Shifting focus quickly, his grip on you readjusted and tightened. Seeing your head wobble back a little, he was tempted to put a hand in your hair and hold you upright--but then he knew he'd DEFINITELY kiss you. 

(Goddamnit. What problems.) 

"New subject," he said briskly, both for your distraction and for his. "When did you go to the orphanage? Were you born there? Or I mean-" he caught himself "Were you brought there as a baby, is what I mean?" He let out a little laugh at himself. Some investigator he was. 

"Mmph," you breathed out, the question helping bring you back enough to put a hand to your own head and slightly straighten. "Fourteen."

"Really?" Sam looked surprised. "That's later than most." 

"Yeah." Your words came just a little more steadily now. "What about you?"

Sam took a breath. He tried to brush off memories like this one. "Eh, around the same age. We were a special case, though. Guess we're a special case most of the time," he laughed ruefully. 

Your E/C eyes got bigger, softer somehow, and looked up at him discerningly. He looked sad for a second--before quickly shifting in place again to signal a change of topic. "Hey, no worries. It was a long time ago, right?" 

You just kept looking at him. He really did have nice eyes, you faintly realized...

Abruptly--and in no small part due to the discomfort he felt from your far-too-perceptive gaze--he shifted his arms on you again. "Hey, I'm not supposed to be the one chatting here, Y/N. You gotta stop being so goddamn considerate. Selfish answers ONLY." 

You giggled again and murmured "Okay" laughingly in a little breathy response, and Sam swallowed hard, looking out at the water for a second in an attempt to regain some control. He REALLY wanted to kiss you right now. To think that the girl he'd swooned over--the girl EVERYONE had swooned over--in the restaurant was now literally curled up in his arms like a kitten--

You heard him take a bracing breath, but his next question came before you could gather your words enough to ask about it. 

"And before the orphanage? You were in the...bad place?" 

The question was NOT what you had expected, although it should have been. Your grenade-filled day must have pushed you a little off your game, you thought grimly, the memory of how much you'd ALREADY accidentally told him about yourself filling your throat with regret.

For now, you could only respond--and he wouldn't accept nods, you remembered with a faint flicker of amusement. "Yes. I-" you shifted a little in his arms, still not quite absorbing the significance of the fact that Sam was holding you "I got them out as soon as I c-could...checked us into the orphanage in America..."

Sam's gaze sharpened, and if you weren't so dazed you'd have looked away. "You didn't start out in Boston?"

"No..." 

"And you came there by yourself, just the three of you?" 

"Never really had p-parents," you breathed, feeling sleepy despite the fact that you were literally giving away your BIGGEST secret that you never told ANYONE but Jameson. 

Sam's face fell, and he held you tighter. "Shit, Y/N. I'm sorry." 

You gave a weak little half-shrug and a smile, brushing off your pain in the same way that he did only a minute earlier. "S'okay." 

Elena came back up then. "Heeyyyy," she said in the same deliberately-bright voice one might use when talking to a nervous dog. "How're you feeling?"

"Well, I'm awake," you chuckled lightly, already starting to move to get up from the bench. Elena looked relieved--and diplomatically chose NOT to give Sam any teasing looks at the way he'd been holding you. Hell, she was already on shaky ground with him for hitting you with grenades earlier today, she figured.

"You need help?" Sam asked suddenly, wanting to keep holding you and hearing more. "No, I'm good Sam," you said, as Elena gamely wrapped an arm around your waist. "Thanks." The two of you made a comical pair, since Elena's head barely came up to your chest, and Sam couldn't help smiling a little at the sight. 

"How's Nate?" you asked faintly as the two of you headed belowdecks, and the last thing Sam heard--not that he was leaning forward to try to listen or anything, definitely not--was the delicate lilt of your laugh at Elena's murmured response. 

(Shit,) Sam thought, already fumbling for his electronic faux-smoke (I could use a cigarette again). He looked down at his trousers. (And a cold shower). 

Whether or not a little--mercifully-delayed--'meep' came out, too, was between nobody but the seagulls and him.


	18. Chapter 18

Two days later, you and Nathan had both recovered from your soreness--and Elena was finally done watching you like a hawk. Sam, however, wasn't--an adorable fact that Chloe barely managed to avoid mocking him for every time that he did something protective. Trying to help you up the stairs, watching you for an extra second every time you stood up, touching your arm gently every fifteen minutes to ask if you were okay...you always laughed and said "Thank you" in a bemused tone, but couldn't deny the weird buzzy feeling that you were getting every time he put his hand on your arm or your waist. 

By the second day after the grenade-incident, you felt like you were an exposed livewire--and, since your mind was still too polite to admit that this feeling was sexual tension, you'd decided to try release through a...different medium. 

The solution presented itself that afternoon, when you and Nate had just gotten up from a simple little warm-up dive--with both Elena and Sam watching over the railings like mother hens, and Chloe holding in her laughter behind them. You'd changed back into normal clothes--your sports bra and leggings this time--because you'd seen that Nadine was off by herself on the deck doing some kind of fighting kicks. 

"Nadine, would you like a sparring partner?" You asked politely, making it sound as if you were asking if she'd like some tea. Nadine stopped moving and stood to look at you, surprised, as did everyone else. "You fight?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She'd mostly stopped speaking Xhosa with you, because--as much as she hated to admit it--it put too much stress on poor Sam to wonder what she might be saying about him. Nadine did have a heart, after all, and she was actually kind of sort of a LITTLE fond of Sam. 

"Yes, it's been a while though. Unless you practice better alone--" you said cheerily. You felt much better after two days of rest--and Sam had taken to hovering only about TWENTY feet away now, instead of two. 

"No, I prefer a partner actually," Nadine said, and it was partly your good looks and partly Chloe's teasing, innuendo-filled smirk that made her blush. With a militarized little cough, she straightened and got back into position. 

You smiled and moved to meet her, knees bent and legs poised, arms up in a light fighting stance--and when Nadine started coming at you with some solid hand-chops, you dodged them deftly, spinning and evading with the same grace that you'd used to spin around waitresses at the restaurant. It HAD been a while--but it hadn't been THAT long. You and your sisters had practiced like this for years, promising yourselves in the orphanage that you would never let a man hurt you like that again. 'From now on', you could clearly remember telling your sisters, 'we will ALWAYS be able to take care of ourselves and protect our bodies. Understood?' Your sisters had nodded, and the years of rigorous combat exercise had started. It was only when they'd died that it ended. 

Today, that muscle memory was back in force; you met all of Nadine's punches and kicks, blocking or catching them surprisingly elegantly. Chloe actually started catching it on her phone, she was so impressed (And just a little gleeful to see someone successfully meeting Nadine head-on), while Elena, Nate, and Sam looked on with their mouths gaping. 

"You're not bad," Nadine panted during a brief pause, regrouping. "Not bad at all. Where did you learn that?" 

"My sisters and I taught ourselves. We practiced together," you said lightly, only a little bit out of breath and panting. Sam couldn't stop staring at your chest, moving up and down from the breathing--at least not until you started fighting again.

Nadine was all swift and ferocious kicks, grunts, and growls, while your fighting was almost completely silent and fluid. The contrast between the two styles was hypnotizing to watch, and it was only when you evaded one particularly epic Nadine-kick and caught her with a higher-level spin-kick of your own (stopping the kick right before you actually hit her in the neck, and holding it there like a pose) that she staggered back and the audience snapped out of it. 

"That...was...awesome." Nate started clapping, grinning broadly, and Elena joined in, laughing. 

Sam still gaped as you lowered your pose and relaxed with a breathy little smile. He'd never seen anyone beat Nadine in hand-to-hand combat. He'd never seen a girl's long, long leg go so high up in the air before, either...and what an angle...Nate, Sam-conscious as ever, gave him a subtle nudge in the side with his elbow to make him close his mouth. 

Nadine, not known for being a good sport, surprised everyone by laughing instead of glowering. "You got me!" She said, surprised. "I'm actually impressed!" And then she smiled.

Chloe beamed; she'd expected her girlfriend to get proud, and standoffish. Damn, she thought to herself. She must like Y/N even more than I thought. 

"How long have you been practicing?" Elena asked, as you and Nadine went to get some water, still chuckling lightheartedly with each other. "Since I was a teenager," you said blithely, drinking. 

Sam's eyes went back to your breasts, which were still moving up and down a little with every pant, making him start to feel very, very warm. He suddenly had the urge to jump in the ocean. 

"My sisters and I practiced together every day. I'm glad I've still got some of the skills; I was afraid they'd faded a bit after these past few years!" you said, smiling. "SOME of the skills?" Nadine said jocularly. "I'd say you've kept all of them." Chloe was about to be jealous, but Nadine wrapped a hand around her waist and gave her a peck on the cheek as she leaned down for her own water, and the feeling faded immediately as she snuggled into her girlfriend's grip. Not to mention the fact that fighting always put Nadine in 'the mood', which was ALWAYS to Chloe's benefit. 

Sam, whose eyes were alternating between your breasts and your legs, was in a mood of his own. You glanced at him, having expected a joke of some kind--or perhaps some concern--and the unveiled lust in his eyes was fully visible for a second before he came to and gave a watery laugh, reaching for his e-cigarette. "Never thought I'd see the day someone kicked Nadine Ross's ass," he said through the cigarette between his teeth. 

The exhilaration from the fight, the sound of his voice between the cigarette, and the sexual admiration you'd just seen in his eyes all combined into one tremendous, somewhat uncomfortable feeling. You, of course, took some more breaths and drinks of water to try to ignore it--but you felt all weird and tingly and squirmy, and GIGGLY even, and it was only when you and Nate went for another afternoon dive that you felt like you'd really recovered. This had been happening more and more this week around him, but you were determined NOT to acknowledge it any further. Especially since you didn't quite know how to deal with it, and almost everything in you wanted to shy away. 

But then you saw Sam's arms flexing as he hefted one of the air tanks later, his short sleeves showing his biceps off, and you actually felt yourself gulp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of doing a Chloe/Nadine sexy one-shot to be read alongside this chapter, since now Nadine's 'in the mood'...anyone interested?


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the reader who gave me tips on good locations in Malaysia! I know it took a while for your tips to become relevant, but voila! :) 
> 
> And really, Nadine and Sam have such a push-and-pull friendship but I kind of love it. <3 
> 
> The scars and backstory in this are directly related to one of my other works, "An Unexpected Calling" ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001511/chapters/34769771 ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sexy Nadine/Chloe oneshot will be published separately at a later date :) I'll add a link to it here when it is!

That night you, Chloe, and Nadine were getting ready for bed in your tiny cabin--the bunk bed setup making Chloe joke about 'summer camp', and Nadine laughingly admitting that the 'requirement' for a tall (your H/C) diver had been complete bullshit that she'd made up to get you on this trip. 

You were still laughing at that as you got some clothes out for the night, when you felt Nadine looking you over curiously. 

In the midst of changing into a more comfortable shirt to sleep in, you straightened, meeting her gaze expectantly. "What?" you asked with a little laugh--but Nadine's face had a tenuous look on it, rather than a mirthful one. She pointed to your upper arms, which were both covered in a latticework of horizontal scars, numerous enough to be a little raised over the skin. "Where'd you get those?" 

You couldn't help your smile fading; it just happened, and you couldn't muster up an excuse right away. Normally you really did keep your upper arms covered--or wore the flesh-colored bandages around them when they were exposed, like earlier today--but the habit of taking the bandages off and getting in bed had been too strong, even with company present. You'd been caught out, and you looked it, your mouth open slightly and your eyebrows high as you floundered for a response. 

"Y/N...?" Chloe came over now, too, looking serious. "You okay?" 

"Y-yes," you said daintily after a moment, visibly collecting yourself, "I-I got these years ago. Back a ways," you offered them a sheepish smile before shifting towards your bed and pulling on the short-sleeved shirt. Fuck, you thought to yourself, how could you have been so stupid...what if they ask more...

But surprisingly, neither woman did. Instead, Nadine lifted her own shirt to show some scars near her abs."Here" she gestured to one "a knife fight in Jan Mayen," she said, her smile so kind and empathetic that you--and Chloe--both stared at her and jolted a little before jumping into that more lighthearted 'battle scar' conversation. The night ended that way, with mercifully entertaining stories about particularly epic fights and travels, and you were so relieved not to have been asked that you found yourself actually able to sleep. And for once, being reminded about the scars hadn't triggered the nightmares. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Elena had almost forcibly shoved Sam, Chloe, and Nadine off the boat for the day. "You," she said to Sam firmly, who was squawking in protest as he was pushed towards the ladder to get down on the dock of a nearby island "are going to drive Y/N crazy if you keep hovering. And ME," she added, raising an eyebrow. "Let us work! You two, keep him entertained."

The potential innuendo there made Sam raise an eyebrow and open his mouth to comment, but not before Nadine punched his arm and made him drop his cigarette. "Don't even think about it," she said snidely. "We're going on a hike," she said up to Elena, who looked down from the boat as Sam grumpily bent over to retrieve his smoke. "Good luck with the treasure, yeah?" 

Forty-five minutes later, Sam was sweating, Chloe had been distracted by a cool bird, and Nadine had resigned herself to sitting down next to Sam and letting him take a break. 

"Jesus, this is like India all over again," Sam panted. "Except it's...where did you say we were again?"

"Pulau Perhentian," Nadine said in a patronizing tone. 

"Right. That." Sam looked around. "It's nice." 

"Ja, it is." 

After a moment, Nadine couldn't help asking. "So any progress on the Y/N-front?" she asked, arms crossed but voice grudgingly supportive. She DID want to know, after all, and she felt that she had a personal stake in this since the set-up was partly her plan. 

Instead of sarcastically mocking her interest, Sam actually sighed. You'd been on his mind constantly, and he really did actually need someone to talk to about it. He'd talked to Nathan, yes, but...it felt weird to be weak in front of his baby brother. And for some reason, Nadine felt like she was on his level. 

"Shit, I don't know, Nadine," he said, actually sounding despairing as he took out his e-cigarette. "I mean--" he started gesturing with his hands, voice sounding caustic "I can tell she LIKES me, I just don't know if she LIKES me. You know?" Normally, Nadine might have laughed at that--but instead, she looked thoughtful and nodded. "I do, actually." 

"You get it?" Sam's eyes were fixed on her now, sensing that she would actually help. 

Nadine kept looking straight ahead, where Chloe was following a bird through the trees. She shrugged. "Ja. I mean, you and I are both egotistical, emotionally-stunted assholes." Sam laughed a little at that and took a drag on his cigarette. "As much as I hate to admit it--" she spoke quickly, trying not to sound too grudging "we're the same. I mean, it took me over a year to ask out Chloe, all because of my stupid pride." 

For once, Sam didn't have a snarky reply. "Yeah. I really like this girl," he said quietly, looking down at the great. "And I'm choking." 

"No you're not," Nadine said, sounding so certain that he looked at her. "You're doing everything right. It's just that she's not picking up what you're putting down." 

Sam raised an eyebrow at the humorous phrasing, remembering a reason why he liked talking to Nadine: she had a simple and efficient way of summarizing problems. And she hated people who prattled on incessantly--even though that was usually HIM. 

"Okay." He straightened and rolled his shoulders in preparation. Nadine looked on, amused. "So, how do I get her to pick it up." 

"The problem's not how, it's WHY." Nadine suddenly seemed more serious, and a little sad. "Sam, she's got these...scars. I saw them last night. I asked her about them, and for the first time since we met her, she actually looked really nervous. Upset, even. And she had no response except to say that it was a long time ago, which also doesn't seem like her. She's usually incredibly accommodating in her conversations. I think there must be something there." 

Sam listened intently, cigarette held mid-air and forgotten. She could hear the concern in his voice when he spoke. "Where are the scars?" 

"Her arms." Nadine rubbed her own to show him where. Sam's face darkened, and she saw him swallow before taking another drag. "I may not be an expert," she concluded, sounding sympathetic "but you should ask her about them. It'll probably help you figure out why she's keeping you at arms-length; I can't see a way in which they're not involved."

"Yeah." Sam's face was still dark. Chloe came back just then, and Sam and Nadine both slid back into cheerier topics on the hike--but Sam was far too busy thinking to enjoy the view. 

He knew damn well what those scars were, and he knew exactly how you'd gotten them. And the knowledge made his heart sink.


	20. Chapter 20

Three weeks later, Sam and the gang were back at the restaurant in South Africa. When the Malaysia job had wrapped up--only a few days after Nadine and Sam's discussion--Sam had been THIS CLOSE to getting you alone, mentioning the scars, and hopefully asking you out. But Nadine was wrong--this time, he HAD choked, doing nothing but hugging you goodbye (and turning bright red) as everyone headed to the airport. Goddammit, he thought, if this is the friendzone, it hurts like a bitch. 

You couldn't deny that for your part, you'd had a fairly mixed reaction to Sam's goodbye. You really, REALLY liked him--and that sexual tension was starting to make you lean a little more his way, or at least it had been before Nadine had brought attention to your scars--but part of you had also been relieved when he hadn't made things more serious as you left. You genuinely weren't sure what your response would have been--and you knew that at the very least, a date wouldn't be comfortable. But maybe that would be in a good way...

Your musings had been made irrelevant by the platonic goodbye, though, and now you were back to work, enjoying seeing the regulars and chatting with Jameson again. Of course now, since you'd been settling back into your routine, Sam had decided to come back and muck it all up. 

You still smiled at everyone, happy to see them, and you smiled bigger when you saw that Nadine and Chloe were more dressed up; Chloe explained that they were having a real "date", just the two of them, so they were dining separately and they were NOT to be interrupted by any of the gang. Nadine had blushed, and Chloe was grinning ear to ear, clearly excited. 

The night was going well, with lots of jocularity and drinks being poured--but then you saw a particularly unkind regular come in. He surveyed the place like he owned it, examining the guests--and when his eyes locked on Chloe and Nadine, they narrowed. You'd seen this man in action before--he was always nice to YOU, of course, since he wanted to get it in--but you knew he wouldn't hesitate to ruin their night. 

You'd been in the middle of a conversation with everyone at Jameson's usual back-table, but straightened immediately when you saw the man enter, and you were already smoothly and briskly gliding towards him when his focus went to the girls' date. You didn't usually leave conversations so abruptly, and Sam was FINALLY not meep-ing in front of you at all, so everyone watched you exit with genuine surprise. Their surprise grew bigger when you walked straight up to the man, absolutely beaming, and planted a kiss right on his face. "Rollo!" you said eagerly, smiling more and more, your hands all over him, "It's so good to see you! I've missed you! Here, sit right up front next to me." 

Rollo, of course, fell for it, pleased and a little flustered to be getting such treatment--NO ONE got kisses and fondles from you like that, and everybody knew it. You sat down next to him, a hand on his leg, chatting while you had a spare moment and gazing into his eyes. 

Sam, meanwhile, had stopped breathing and was frozen in place, his own eyes fixed on you and the man. 

(What the hell--)

(Him?)

(She can't be--no--she CAN'T be--)

(HIM?)

(No--)

(NO-) 

Sam lasted only a minute before getting up and shooting out the backdoor for a smoke. He ended up at the docks again, chain-smoking REAL cigarettes, mind racing--when Nathan showed up with Jameson, smiling knowingly. 

"Sam."

"What, Nathan?"

"Sam, it's a TRICK. SHE DOESN'T LIKE HIM." Nathan spoke quickly and earnestly, watching his brother with a bemused expression. "Jameson, tell him what you told me."

Jameson was smiling. "She's only pretending to like him for your friends. That guy's an asshole, and he won't hesitate to--well, he was going to say unkind things to Chloe and Nadine, and ruin their evening and make them sad. Y/N KNOWS it--trust me, Sam, I've seen her do this a dozen times to guys like him before. She's just trying to protect them from the guy. I GUARANTEE you, Sam, the second Chloe and Nadine are out for the night? She's gonna cut that guy loose. Really, Sam," he put a hand on Sam's arm companionably "it's just an act." 

"Really? You don't think she really likes him?" Sam looked grudgingly hopeful. Nathan and Jameson laughed and nodded. "NO." 

"Hmph." Sam considered it before dropping his cigarette. "O-...okay, then." He rolled his shoulders, trying to pull his face into a serious one but failing to hide a relieved and excited smile. 

Jameson had been right, of course; the man made your skin crawl, and you clenched your toes tightly in your high heels as you forced your smile to stay on your face, but you managed to get away as soon as Chloe and Nadine had headed back to their hotel room, both of them happy with their eyes shining. And THAT made it worth it, you told yourself with an internal grin. 

Your trick had also had another unexpected and inadvertent effect: fake or not, Sam had seen someone else's interest in you, seen someone else TOUCHING you, and he didn't like it. There was no time to waste.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning, Sam headed down towards the docks by himself. Nate was only a little awake at the time when Sam ruffled his head goodbye, and still very sleepy, but he'd seen the resolve in his brother's eyes last night and knew what he was about to do. He also knew that Sam wouldn't want an audience, and wisely decided to snuggle back in bed and just send some good luck his way telepathically. He really, really hoped Sam came back with a smile. 

You were just saying goodbye to a few people in front of the restaurant--locals you'd run into, out for morning strolls--and were turning back around when you saw Sam approaching. Your smile automatically widened, and you didn't even try to restrain it; it was beautiful day, you were in a good mood, and one of your favorite people had just shown up. You felt a breathy gasp come out with the smile, and your stomach contract a little; THAT feeling you DID try (and still failed) to ignore. 

Hands on your hips, you beamed and stepped toward him. "Sam!" you said cheerily. "You're up early!"

Sam laughed a little, dryly. "Yeah. Night owls and morning birds, huh?" He'd managed to avoid a full-out run, but he sure had been doing a hell of a power-walk to get here in order to beat out any doubt that might start coming up. Now that he'd gotten here, there was nothing to do but power through, and he instantly felt the nerves start right on time--but then the sight of another guy making you laugh (fake or not) last night showed up to counter it in his memory, and the urge to act was back in full force. "Listen, Y/N," he started quickly, surprising himself by how strong his voice sounded "I was wondering, can you and I do something today?" His gaze suddenly got very discerning, and you sensed that every nuance of your response was being analyzed. Surprised, but pleased--yes, you could feel in your core that you were undeniably pleased by the idea--your grin got bigger and you nodded with an accommodating and perky little shrug. "Sure! That'd be fun! What did you want to do?" 

If Sam had been feeling any sassier, and trying for a random hook-up, he would have said "You" in a clever response. Instead, he straightened and coughed a little with a bigger grin of his own, putting a hand in his pocket and running the other through his hair, suddenly feeling bashful. He looked away for a second. "Fuck, I'm just realizing that I don't actually know what's good to do around here. This is your turf, I mean, what do you THINK we should do--fuck, I should've thought of that." He rubbed a hand over his mouth, suddenly comically smiling. "And--sorry for the swearing."

You giggled, that sound completely throwing him off-guard like it always did, and his eyes fixed back on your face, smile growing again in a slow, disbelieving smirk. "It's okay," you said brightly, honestly meaning it, "I like it. I think it's funny." You giggled again; it was true. Sam had this way of swearing caustically while still sounding like a little boy that was just getting used to it. It was cute. You were reminded again, hearing your own giggle, that these past few months were filled with more laughter than you'd ever had combined. And there was no doubt in your mind that Sam and his friends were the factor. But mostly Sam. 

"Really?" Sam looked excited, his eyes intent on your face. "You do?"

You nodded, giggling again. "I can swear sometimes too, you know," you added, surprising yourself. Your voice sounded...flirty, like it was coming out of somebody else's mouth. Sam heard it too, and his ears almost visibly pricked. 

"Really." He let that tone color his own voice, just an infinitesimal smidge, and watched as you comically took a bracing breath. 

With a ceremonial pause, both your mouths twitching in smiles, you managed to eke out the word. "Fuck," you said proudly, looking serious for a second before you both burst out laughing. You were close now, only about a foot and a half apart and bent over from laughing, your heads almost touching each other. You straightened first, still giggling a little, and gestured towards your boat. 

"I don't know if you've already had breakfast, but I have some sandwiches on board, and I was going to be spending the day out on the water," you offered happily, Sam's smile so big he thought it would fall off his face. "You could come with me if you like." You realized as soon as you said it that you meant 'Please, please come with me'. Your torso jolted again, but some part of you didn't feel as scared of it anymore. Perhaps the part that had just flirted. 

Sam was already nodding. "Yeah! That sounds nice," he said, and his Boston accent made it come out in a sardonic, almost-seductive purr even though he hadn't meant it to. He could see a flicker in your eyes for a second, showing that you'd heard it, and felt his own heart stop beating. 

(Fuck, I scared her--)

But that inner flirt made your smile grow big again anyway, and you turned, ponytail bouncing, to lead the way. "Come on!" you chirped happily with a laugh. Part of you wondered who in the hell was operating your controls...but all the other parts didn't care one bit.


	23. Chapter 23

It only took a short time to get the boat out to a nice stretch of calm water, and it took an even shorter amount of time for Sam to fall more and more in love with you. He hadn't thought or acknowledged that feeling OFFICIALLY yet, but now, watching you tend to the boat like a smooth dance and giggle adorably at his jokes and look out happily over the horizon...yes. Now he felt it. And the feeling actually didn't scare him at all. 

"Sam!" you peeked your head out from up above on the roof, smiling "come on up here! There's a regular I want you to see!" 

Sam grinned and caught up easily with one parkour move, one hand holding beers and sandwiches, and sat down beside you to dangle his legs over the bow. A shark moved slowly, almost lazily, below, and Sam whistled low as he handed you your drink. "That a great white?"

"Nah, he's a mako," you said happily, gratefully sipping your beer. "I call him Tommy-Boy, but everybody else calls him Short-Stop," you said affectionately, watching the shark swim. 

"And just why does this lovely gentleman have two names?" Sam asked with a jokingly-formal wave of his free hand. 

You suddenly felt a blush start. "Well," you said in a low, sensitive voice, as if the shark could hear you, "he doesn't last very long with the ladies."

"What, they don't like him?" Sam looked amused, his eyes fixed on you instead of the mako below. 

You could DEFINITELY feel the blush now, and laughed a little, making an awkward vague gesture. "No, they do, but he just doesn't...LAST very long with them."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, and they looked mischievous now. "REALLY."

You laughed, trying to cover your nerves. "I'm sorry, buddy!" you called down to Tommy-Boy. "I'm sorry!" 

"And just" Sam suddenly asked, his eyes on you and a devilish smirk spreading "how long is a guy supposed to last?"

The blush was on your cheeks now; fortunately, the sunlight just made it look like a glow. You laughed, sipping your beer and focusing more on the shark to avoid Sam's keen, undeniably sensual gaze. He knew he shouldn't risk scaring you, but the opportunity was just too good to pass up: this was the closest he'd managed to get to a romantic topic, and it came out of nowhere. "I'm not the one to ask. Neither is Tommy-Boy here, apparently," you added in a burst of cheekiness. 

The shark moved around the bend of the boat, and you tried to recover. "He's going for the engine," you said lightly. "Sharks have electromagnetic sensors in their snouts, so they're extremely attracted to metal or electronic objects like engines and cameras. He'll just go poke at it for a little bit and then leave it alone."

"Just like he does with the ladies," Sam suddenly joked, and you cracked up, almost choking on your beer. "I'm sorry, sweetheart!" you called down to the mako, still laughing hard. "Sorry--"

Sam laughed a little, but still kept his focus on you. "I gotta say, Y/N, you're the last person I was expecting sex jokes from." 

"Really? How come?" you asked, still laughing a little and relaxing more again. 

"Well, I actually had originally thought that you were a virgin," Sam said, and an observer would be hard-pressed to figure out which person was more surprised by the sentence. Sam had NOT meant to say that out loud. At least, not directly like that--

(Alright that's it, I'm jumping off this ship now)

(Goodbye world)

(I'll never have sex again)

The moment of shock lasted long enough that Sam almost really did jump--but you finally stopped gaping at him, eyebrows still raised, and smiled disbelievingly. "WHAT?! Why?"

Sam practically melted in relief when he saw your smile. "You said--you said you were never the belle of the ball, or got to party or whatever, so I just figured--"

"Sam, I'm twenty-six!" you laughed. "Of course I have!" 

Sam's eyes went to your bandages again, and little did he know that your thoughts were starting to go there too. But the shark came back around then, distracting you both, and the gradual arrival of several more sharks accompanied by the consumption of several more beers meant that you had a fun, relaxing date all morning. 

It wasn't until you'd decided to break for lunch back at Jameson's that Sam realized he'd never actually used the word in his 'invite'. 

(Shit.)

(What if she doesn't think this is actually a date--) he thought, leaning next to you as he watched you cheerfully steer the boat back around.

(SHIT.)

He couldn't mention it yet, since it might make the ride back awkward, so he settled for watching you admiringly and listening to your fun shark facts and trying to control his heart rate until the boat reached the harbor. 

The second you hopped down onto the dock with him, Sam turned to you. "So, Y/N..." he held up his hands like he was trying to catch something, then they sank a little like he failed. "I-this was a date, right?" Your eyebrows went up a little and you opened your mouth in a little 'o' to respond, but he kept going "I-I mean, this was--yeah. A date, right?" 

Aside from those coughing fits, you'd never seen Sam so flustered. And that weird new part of you woke up again. 

"Yeah, Sam," you said quietly, comfortingly, with a sweet smile, not knowing what to do with your own hands, "It was a date." 

Sam stared at you earnestly for a second, unsure what to say now, when Jameson suddenly called out from the restaurant's entrance. "Hey, guys! Come on in! Food's on me!" 

You both glanced over to see that Nathan was peeking out from the restaurant behind him. Nathan gave Sam a wave.

You both laughed, tension released, and started forward when you saw her out of the corner of your eye. Nervous, petite, dark hair and dark makeup, she was on the corner--and she was staring right at you. 

You froze, and Sam immediately turned to check on you. "Everything all right?" 

You recovered quickly, but not before Sam saw who you were looking at. "That's actually an old friend," you said lightly, but you couldn't quite make your tone reach your eyes. You gave Sam a full smile and a touch on his arm, not forgetting how much fun you'd had or that it was a date, and started moving away. "I'll see you later, Sam, have a good lunch all right?" 

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, knowing something was wrong but not knowing what. He knew from your smile and the tingly feeling in his arm that it was nothing to do with your date, though, so he couldn't help his grin. 

You sent a wave towards the others inside and headed away, the girl shifting in place anxiously while she waited for you. She backed into the alleyway as you got close, and your face became grim. 

"What are you doing here, Freya?" 

Freya held up a newspaper, letting you read the headline, and you felt your heart sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know next to nothing about shark-mating-techniques. So just go with it ;)


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some parallels to my work "An Unexpected Calling" are in here, but not too much!

'The unidentified woman was found two days ago in Minsk, having been raped and presumably murdered by an unknown assailant. Any potential witnesses are asked to come forward if they have relevant information regarding the attack.'

Freya rearranged her grip and held up another newspaper: 'A Jane Doe was found dead in Bogota this week, presumably raped before being killed. Anyone with information on the deceased is asked to contact local police.'

You gulped, glancing behind you to see if anyone was nearing the alleyway. "Y/N, do you know what this means??" Freya asked in a stressed whisper. 

You held up your hands in a calming gesture, still looking around and ushering her deeper into the alleyway. "Calm down, Freya, they could be coincidences."

"TWO?! TWO OF US, KI--" she dropped down to a whisper at your frantic gesturing "killed, in three weeks?! That's not normal, Y/N!"

"They might. not. mean anything," you said quietly, putting your hands on Freya's shoulders in an attempt to get her to focus. "And hyperventilating doesn't help anybody, okay?" 

"Yeah, they might not mean anything Y/N," Freya said in a rush, "or this means--"

"Calm down--"

"We are being HUNTED!" she hissed in a frantic burst, both of you looking around nervously. 

"We DON'T. KNOW. THAT," you murmured calmly, still looking around before reluctantly meeting her gaze again. Freya did not look calm. "Y/N, how could they know where all of us are?!"

"Freya, Lucy and Pepper were both in particularly dangerous parts of town," you said, pointing to the newspaper articles. "These things happen to totally random women in those kinds of places all the time, unfortunately. It could be nothing."

"Nothing? Two girls are dead!" Freya's heavily-lined eyes were practically bugging out of her head as she looked up at you. 

Regret filled your own eyes. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Freya sighed suddenly and rubbed her forehead. "You're right, I know, I know you didn't. I'm sorry. It's just--" she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm all alone, Y/N, we're all all ALONE--"

"How did you get here?" You asked, trying to bring the conversation back on solid ground. 

Freya sniffled. "Plane, like everybody else. But you're" *sniff* "hard to find, since you don't stay in touch. I had to ask around for a while. Turns out there's lots of blond girls in South Africa." 

You clenched your jaw for a second. "I don't stay in touch for a reason, Freya." 

Freya looked sad. "I know. And I'm leaving, I just--if this IS one of them, we have to--"

"I know. We have to warn the others."

Freya looked attentive now. "You think I should send the alert? Make everyone go to ground?" 

You thought for a second, then nodded. "Yes. You're right that we shouldn't take chances. Send the signal--and I'll" you hesitated for a second before giving a resigned sigh "I'll ask around here. I have lots of friends who might know something." 

Freya nodded, relieved. "Okay. That's all?"

"What else can we do? Track the killers down ourselves?"

Freya sighed. "You're right. I'll--I'll go."

"Hey." You held her gaze. "You're still okay, right? Not doing any of that stuff?" You gestured at her arms, and Freya smiled weakly. "Yeah. Just got out of rehab. And I've actually...I've been going to school. Oxford Law."

You smiled. "You got in? Freya, that's incredible!" 

Freya grinned excitedly despite herself. "Yeah, I still can't believe it! I--well, I guess I'll do the signal and then try to focus on school. And go back to practicing martial arts, too, just in case," she added grimly, face falling again. You nodded. "Good. You're doing great, Freya. Focus on Oxford, on the future."

Freya nodded. "Thanks, Y/N. And thanks for meeting me; I know you didn't want to. Plus that guy looked cute," she joked a little. But the mention of Sam, the idea of even THINKING of getting him involved in all this, made you withdraw a bit. Freya seemed to sense it, and backed off. "See you around, Y/N. Be careful."

"Yeah", you murmured, "you too." 

And Jameson, just inside, heard every word.


	25. Chapter 25

"Everything all right, Jameson?" Nathan asked a few minutes later as he visited their table. "You look kind of pale." 

"Hm?" Jameson blinked. "Oh, sorry, Nathan, lost myself there for a second. Don't you worry, I'm back from my train of thought." He sat down. "Hand me that bottle, Sam. I could use a drink. After all, I've been on a train ride." 

The joke was a weak one, and Nate knew it. "You SURE you're all right?" 

Jameson glanced at him, then his shoulders sank. "Eh, I'm just worried 'bout somethin'. It'll work itself out. It always does."

"Must be somethin' big," Nate said, the others listening in. "You don't usually seem so out of it. Anything we can help with?" 

"I-" Jameson suddenly got thoughtful. "You know what, Nathan, I might just take you up on that. But I gotta check with somebody first." 

"Okay." Nate smiled, happy to be helpful, and they went back to eating while Jameson hatched a plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N." Jameson took you aside a few hours later; you'd been running some errands, and had just arrived back from the nearby marketplace. "What is it, Jameson? What's wrong?" you asked, eyes serious. You'd been thoroughly distracting yourself all afternoon, and had almost completely forgotten about Freya's visit. Almost. 

Jameson sighed. "Look," he said in a low murmur, glancing around before settling his eyes on you in an earnest gaze, "I know your friend's news had you spooked."

You visibly tensed and straightened, stepping back a little at the realization that he'd heard, but Jameson moved with you and started speaking again quickly. "AND" he said firmly, shifting his head to force your gaze back on him, "I know someone who can help you."

It was your turn to sigh now, and you looked at him reluctantly. Recognizing the silent permission to go on, he kept speaking. "You've already met most of my friends in the business--but I can't expect you to trust most of 'em with this. The Drake brothers, though?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling kindly, as your gaze sharpened "THOSE boys you CAN trust. Come on, Y/N," he said, putting a hand on your shoulder, "let 'em help you." 

You looked away for a second, thrown by the idea. You DID trust those boys...actually, you'd trusted them and liked them from the moment you'd met. But they'd want to know details...they'd want to know MORE....SAM would want to know more--

Jameson already saw the refusal starting in your eyes, and held up his hands in an attempt to halt your thoughts. "We'll ONLY tell them what they NEED to know," he said rapidly, "or if you like, it could be Chloe and Nadine doing the helping. They're a good bunch, you already know that--we just tell them the specifics, but not the background. They trust me enough to do the rest on faith. Okay?" 

You paused for a second before nodding slowly, the vision of Freya's wide scared eyes coming back into your mind. The vision of all the other girls like you getting that warning message all over the world...worrying about being hunted... "Okay," you sighed. "But--"

Whatever you'd been going to say was forgotten, and you gave Jameson a sad, helpless look. His eyes softened further as he pulled you into an abrupt hug. "It's all right, Y/N," he murmured over your shoulder. "Don't worry about a thing. We've got your back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Drake brothers and their friends might have been big on fast-paced action and events, but they were never quick to stop relaxing when there was a chance to slow down--so the whole gang was still lounging and eating and drinking in Jameson's restaurant when he came back in. 

"Okay, kids," he said, sitting down briskly and speaking in his rare business-tone "turns out I do need your help with that job after all."

Nate leaned forward, ever-eager to help his friends. "What is it?" 

Sam looked on with the others, curious--and quietly wondering in his mind if this job was going to take very long, and if it was going to require leaving for any length of time. He'd JUST gotten on a date with you, after all--

Jameson held up a piece of paper he'd just finished drawing on. It was a rudimentary sketch of an upper arm, which haphazard lines drawn across--and when Sam realized what they were supposed to represent, he almost choked on his Scotch. 

"These," Jameson continued, not noticing Sam's reaction "are ritual scars. They're found on girls, on their upper arms--usually both arms, usually horizontal, and there can be just a few or a whole lot more."

Sam felt a pang in his chest as he wondered how many YOU had. Nadine and Chloe grew pale and shared a glance as they recognized the wounds. 

"Someone has recently raped and killed two girls with these scars--one in Minsk, one in Bogota. Both within the past few weeks." Jameson put down two newspaper clippings, printed out from the Internet. The treasure hunters looked down at the articles, faces getting more serious--and apprehensive. This didn't sound like a usual job. 

"What ritual involves the scars?" Elena asked. Jameson looked grim. "Rape. It's a coming-of-age thing in a certain...place that my friend would rather not reveal. But the girls who managed to escape spread out all over the world, in hiding. The usual works--new names, new identities, jobs, some with families..." 

Jameson pointed at the picture of the dead girl's arm in the article from Minsk. "But someone is killing these girls now--and my friend needs to know if these two are just flukes, or if the girls are being hunted." He met Nathan's gaze. "It's important." 

Sully stared at Jameson. "Something tells me this isn't your typical job." 

Jameson shook his head. "No. Intelligence gathering isn't something I love getting my hands in. With this crowd of visitors in my restaurant, the less I usually know the better. But," he paused. "this really IS important. And trust me." He chose his words carefully. "You're going to want to help out with this one." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, you'd headed out to one of the nearby beaches for a short swim--and were hit with a rapid realization when you entered the water, one that shocked your body more than the temperature.

"I actually had originally thought that you were a virgin," Sam had said. ORIGINALLY. That implied that something had changed, he'd found something out--something that made him learn you weren't a virgin even BEFORE your conversation earlier today--

You thought of the alarm in Nadine's eyes when she'd accidentally seen your scars, and stood up straight in the waist-deep water. 

What if she'd told him, SHIT if she'd TOLD him, she--

You felt your heart sink and, for the first time since your sisters had died, felt your composure really break. Your eyes started blurring. 

Sam hadn't liked you, he hadn't wanted you, he'd just--it was a pity date--because he'd figured out what had happened--

Your feet gave out as you collapsed to sit in the water, the sunset gradually starting ahead of you--and for once, it gave you no comfort at all.


	26. Chapter 26

The next day, you spent a larger amount of time out alone on the water than usual--and Sam noticed.

"Hey, Jameson, where's Y/N?" he asked, eating lunch with the gang. "Doesn't she usually stop in here by now?"

Jameson nodded. "Yeah, must be out on the water. Sometimes if it's nice out there, she stays longer."

"Isn't it dangerous to be out there by herself?" Chloe asked, sipping her drink. Jameson sighed. "Yeah. But Y/N has a good head on her shoulders. She doesn't take unnecessary risks."

"She never said..." Nadine murmured, more to herself, then spoke up "Jameson, what...exactly happened to her sisters?"

Jameson shrugged, but it was grim and somber. "Bad dive."

The group looked at him, waiting for more, but he shook his head and started walking away, sadly muttering "Bad dive." again before he went. 

"Poor Y/N," Elena said quietly. Nadine and Sam met each other's eyes for a moment, thinking of the scars, then looked away. "Can you imagine?" Elena continued. "I mean, the water is so dark here...visibility is lousy under the surface, and the sharks here--they're HUGE--"

"How she can even go IN that water in the first place, let ALONE at NIGHT, is beyond me," Sully added, actually sounding unnerved for once. Even Nate looked uneasy, and fidgeted at the idea. 

"Do you think she's still thinking about it?" Chloe asked after some silence. The others looked at her. "About what?" Sam asked, tearing his gaze away from the restaurant's entrance, still hoping to see you come in. 

"The poachers, the kids that she was saving. Remember, Jameson said that the other girls who helped her went back to the States, so the kids are unprotected now."

"Yeah." Sullivan sighed. "She probably does. Jameson," he called as the other man came back from the front "have there been any..." he gestured awkwardly with his cigar "y'know, those kids that Y/N was saving--have there been any..."

"Fatalities?" Jameson finished ruefully. "Yeah. Six, last one earlier this week." Their faces fell as he continued, getting stern. "DON'T tell Y/N. She doesn't need that on her conscience."

"We won't," Nathan said sadly. 

"Any updates on that search?" the man asked, the concern in his eyes belying his casual tone. Sam didn't fall for it for a second, but let it slide. "Yeah," he said, just as casually, "looks like it was a coincidence. Victor here's been pumping all of his best contacts for information; no one's heard anything about scars and girls." Most days, Sam would've gritted his teeth rather than praise Victor Sullivan; but the older man's connections certainly had come in handy. They'd gotten the intel back in record time. 

Jameson looked pleased, and his shoulders lowered a little in relief. "Thank God." He stared at the table under his fingers, suddenly coming to. "Great. I'll be able to tell--" he coughed, cutting himself off deliberately "uh, I'll be able to tell them. They'll be relieved. Thank you, guys. Really." He squeezed Victor's shoulder in gratitude, giving Sam a knowing look that he didn't quite comprehend, before heading back to the kitchen. 

Nadine and Chloe glanced at Sam, all three of them knowing who'd he'd meant, and Sam suddenly stood up. "I'm gonna go find Y/N," he said, too serious to even bother with bluffs or defensive behavior. "See you guys later." 

He was out the door before they could even respond--but Nadine and Chloe's eyes followed him sadly, and through the kitchen window, so did Jameson's. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were bent over on the dock, double-tying some mooring knots and still wetsuit-clad, when you suddenly heard panting and footsteps behind you. 

"Y/N?" You turned, already recognizing the voice, and gave him a small smile. "Oh, hi Sam," you said; you thought you'd said it appropriately lightly, but he wasn't fooled. 

Sam swallowed, fumbling for the right words. "I, ah--you were late," he said, in lieu of a real explanation for his hurry. "I was waiting for you."

"Really?" you straightened, still trying to keep your eyes more on the knots and on the boat than on his hazel ones. "You didn't need to do that; I'm a little later sometimes." The eager-to-please in your nature came out despite yourself, making you soften the comment with a nice laugh. It was genuine enough to make Sam smile a little back--before his face got serious again and he held up a hand. 

"Can I...talk to you?" he asked, sounding more earnest than you'd heard before. "Up there?" he nodded towards the bow of the boat, and the little rooftop where you'd sat on your 'date'. If you could call it that, you thought sadly; it had been a pity date on his part, after all--

"Sure. Are you all right?"

Sam nodded, thrown by the concern. "Me? Oh--yeah, yeah I'm good. Nothing takes me down," he joked weakly. For some reason he suddenly thought of you being hit by the grenade, and his breath hitched. 

You hopped back onto the boat, Sam easily catching up and leaping onto the roof beside you, and sat a little sideways to look at him. "What's wrong, Sam?"

Sam forgot his words for a second, unable to think of anything but how great it sounded when you said his name. You sounded so...INTERESTED, in HIM, and he really, REALLY wanted you to say it again. 

Seeing your expectant, slightly concerned gaze, he coughed and did his best to just get the sentences out. "So you probably know that, uh, Jameson asked us to help with a certain...problem." He could hear his own accent getting thicker--and visibly see your shoulders tighten. You consciously tried to force a neutral expression onto your face, but had a strong hunch that you were failing. 

"And I mean...Y/N, I--look, I know it was for you. And I've gotta level with you, Y/N, Nadine told me about your sc...scars" he kept talking faster, seeing that you seemed to be holding your breath, mouth clamped shut tight "and I knew what they were because I've run across a few people in this industry who've talked about the scars that girls are given in Conniptia. And I just..." he let his sentence wane, hoping you'd cut him off, but you just kept staring, looking sadder and sadder, so he started up again "I want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry that happened to you, and with Rafe--" he sighed "I just know that must've been part of why him being here was really scary. But you don't have to worry about any of that, okay?" he started talking even faster, scooting himself closer on the roof, eager to hold your hands but managing not to "we checked, and those two girls were just a fluke. So you're fine, aright? You-you're fine." His voice got faint. 

You sighed, both relieved and resigned, and ran a hand through your hair, looking out over the ocean. "That's why we learned how to fight," you said quietly; if Sam didn't want you on another date, at least you had someone to confide in. At least you had a friend.

His hazel eyes were riveted onto your face. "My sisters and I. I promised them," you looked back at him sadly "I promised them we'd never let anything like that happen to us again." You laughed wetly before meeting his gaze. "I was at least right about that, in a way."

Sam felt a deep, sharp pain in his chest at seeing you start to cry, and scooted even closer. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. Really. If I could chase every one of 'em down--" his jaw hardened, one hand moving up to touch your arm. You gulped, surprised at the touch, and nodded. "Thanks, Sam, that's really nice--" you remembered then why you'd been so upset yesterday, and ran a bracing hand through your hair again "but you...you didn't have to go on a pity date with me. I mean, that was really nice of you too--"

"What?" Sam's face fell. "You think I--NO, Y/N, no, it was a REAL date. Really, I-" he scooted even closer, your knees touching, and held both your arms now. "Christ, Y/N, it took me months to even get up the gumption to TALK to you, I wouldn't waste a second with you on a FAKE date," he laughed. "Do you believe me?" 

You watched him, feeling hope rise again, and swallowed. "Really?" 

He nodded, eyes intent. "Really." 

"O-" you brushed some hair out of your face, meeting his gaze tremulously before looking at your hands "okay--"

"Sam...? Sorry--" Chloe's voice sounded, reluctant, from the dock below, and you both jumped a little. 

Chloe really did look sorry--enough to keep Sam from glaring daggers. "I--something's come up. We've--we've got a flight to catch." 

Sam sighed, but you were already getting up. "I guess you've gotta go," you said, a little ruefully. 

"Yeah." Sam sounded grim. 

You were turning to dismount when--

"Y/N? Why don't you...come WITH us?"

You looked back at him, surprised--but for once, it wasn't the invitation that had you surprised. It was the fact that you'd just realized, in that sunny seaside moment, that it was exactly what you wanted to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conniptia is the fictional country from another one of my Uncharted fanfictions, "An Unexpected Calling", and is somewhere near Tasmania and Australia.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the adventure plot from Sahara, by the way :)

Two Days Later  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on a river boat in Mali now, the open arid landscape sliding smoothly by on either side and the boat's metal hull glinting in the sun. It may not have necessarily been the S. P. Magna--which was still tucked away in Malaysia for safekeeping--but it was a decently-sized motorboat, much bigger than yours and equipped with cabins and a kitchenette inside. 

Months and months ago, Nathan had gotten some tips from a friend about a Civil War battleship, filled with gold. Intent on keeping the Confederacy's wealth from the Yankees, and ambushed in a battle off the coast of Virginia, the ship had deliberately set out into the Atlantic--supposedly never to be seen again. That is, until Nathan's friend had come across ancient writings in a West African temple--writings that mentioned a strange metal ship, floating along the Niger River. If a non-seaworthy-American ship made it all the way across the ocean successfully, Sully had grudgingly said, it would be a miracle--but Nathan had just winked, and reminded the gang that miracles were their specialty. With the prospect of gold--and Nate's friend having brand-new, urgent intel--the group set off, bound for Labezanga to get the next clue. 

You let your legs hang off the boat's sides as it buzzed along, relaxing under the sunshine and relishing the prospect of another adventure--particularly one with Sam, you thought boldly as you saw him lounging in your peripheral vision. He was wearing particularly-flattering black aviators and looking cool as a cucumber. With the secret of the Conniptian scars behind you, the burden of the shark dives gone, and nothing but adventurous days ahead, you found yourself smiling. 

Sam, meanwhile, was thanking his lucky sunglasses for allowing him to ogle you without being spotted. Chloe had gotten you into a more revealing bathing suit--a striking one-piece--and Sam was pretty sure that if it had been any more revealing, or (holy hell) a TWO-piece, his heart would have stopped.

It had been a pretty fun flight, filled with Chloe and Nathan's antics and Nadine and Elena's amusement, so Sam hadn't really gotten a moment alone with you since two days ago on the dock. And he could hardly wait--but, he remembered a little resentfully as Chloe and Sullivan bounced up from belowdeck, seven people in one motorboat did not a romantic trip make. 

"Beer, Y/N?" Chloe asked perkily, passing Sam one too. You lifted your head a little, taking the drink with a happy "thank you", before stretching back out languidly--and Sam nearly missed the bottle with his lips, drinking in the sight of your extended legs.

"Psst. Y/N." You glanced over to see Chloe, stripped down to a red bikini and laying down beside you. You glanced over to her, and she whispered more as Sam was distracted by Sullivan. 

"You know you're driving Sam crazy, right?" she asked with a smirk. You bit your lip, embarrassed by the on-point conversation and unsure how to respond, but Chloe just giggled. "Seriously, Y/N. He's drooling over there. You should give him more of a show!"

"What??" You hadn't meant to sound quite so conservative and scandalized, and felt your face getting flustered. "What do you mean?"

Chloe looked at you thoughtfully for a second, then abruptly backed away, leaning back to focus on sunbathing. "Oh, never mind. Just go for the subtly-letting-him-long-for-you-and-hoping-he-gets-brave technique if you want." She looked you up and down again, tipping her sunglasses, then sighed. "REALLY brave."

Sam was feeling decidedly NOT brave, and incredibly determined to avoid steamy daydreaming. Your swimsuit had just enough little cutouts to reveal a hit of abs, with a slight line leading down from your hipbones and your waist...

The thought of his tongue along those lines made Sam shift in his seat. 

(FUCK, get a grip, Sam) he thought grimly; Sullivan was right next to him, chatting away, and there were literally three other people on this boat who could come up from belowdeck at any minute--GOD if any of them saw his erection he'd never hear the end of it

He breathed deep, focusing on the taste of his beer and trying painfully hard to focus on Sullivan's stories. 

But then Chloe, barely able to hide her grin, 'accidentally' dropped her hat in your direction. The floppy hat fell into the water, and since it was on your side, you instantly sat up and bent forward to get it for her--unintentionally lifting your barely-clad ass into the air. 

Sam temporarily forgot how to breathe, eyes now uncontrollably fixed on it--

"Here you go, Chloe," you said a little proudly, sitting back up and presenting her the hat with a flourish. 

"Thank you kindly," she said, smirking--then you'd realized what she'd done, and gave her the closest thing you did to a glare. It must not have been very scary, however, because all she did was giggle and stretch back out again. You blushed, feeling incredibly self-conscious. 

It took Sam several moments to come back to Earth again--and to realize that Sullivan had lost his words, too. Jealousy proved to be the best distraction, in Sam's case, and he rapped Victor's side with his beer. "Hey," he hissed. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Victor asked, slowly moving his eyes off of you to look at the younger man. Sam's eyes narrowed. "Back off."

Victor rolled his eyes. "I may be old compared to you, Sam, but I'm not DEAD. Come on," he said, leaning in and lowering his voice, gesturing towards you "I mean, can you blame me?"

Sam glared, his glower remaining even after Sullivan sighed and got up to head back downstairs. 

Nathan, who was on his way up, greeted him cheerfully. "Hey, Sully!"

"Careful," Sullivan grumbled, gesturing towards the upper deck, "there's a guard dog." 

It didn't take Nate long to figure out what his friend meant--or to turn a little bit red himself--and he bit back a smile as he sat down beside his brother. Sam stayed quiet, expecting some kind of joke at his expense, but Nathan graciously pulled out some maps of the territory and started working, deliberately keeping his eyes down and his smile hidden. 

Then you rolled over again, just for a second to get some sunlotion, and Nathan distinctly heard his brother release a very faint "meep".


	28. Chapter 28

It had been a beautiful sun-baked day of river-cruising, and although the trip was now continuing into nightfall, the boat's progress was cushioned by the cool, calm night air. It was a beautiful evening to be out on the water, with no sounds but the occasional nocturnal bird-song and the currents rippling by. You loved it. 

Sam came upstairs then, carrying two plates; everyone was downstairs getting some dinner--it had been Nathan's turn to cook, and he'd made a great salmon dish--and he'd deliberately hurried it up to get you for some alone time. 

"Oh! Thanks," you said happily, breaking out of your reverie as you shifted to face the little 'couch' table on-deck. Sam sat on the other side with a smile. "Hey, I didn't cook it, I can at least eat it," he joked. 

There was silence for a moment as you both started eating--"Mmm," you said instinctively, grinning around a bite, and Sam quickly looked away to avoid thinking inappropriate thoughts about that particular sound--

"Nathan--" he coughed "Nathan's pretty good at this whole cooking-thing." 

"Yeah, he is," you said, taking another bite. You looked up to see Sam watching you, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just...I meant to tell you somethin', a while ago," he said quickly, the others' pending arrival the only impetus for his courage. "I just...I" he shrugged a half-shrug, but his hazel eyes looked the opposite of casual "I think you're really brave."

You sat up a little. "Aw, thanks Sam. Really?"

Sam scoffed, relaxing at your response. "Uh, YEAH Y/N," he laughed, the 'duh' in his voice apparent. "You've been through some serious shit, worse than Nathan and I have, and--I mean, you and your friends were LITERALLY risking your lives every night for some ungrateful kids out with great whites IN their feeding territory, during mating season, in the DARK. I mean, that's some scary shit! And you did it for free, just to be life-savers!" He laughed again sheepishly as you humbly looked down, then suddenly leaned forward to get your attention again, knees touching under the table. 

"I mean c'mon, Y/N," he said softly, earnestly. "With sharks, in the pitch-black water...that had to be scary for you, right?"

You nodded minutely. "Yeah. I--" you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, biting your lip before speaking, and his gaze only intensified. "I actually felt pretty guilty because I was so...RELIEVED when I didn't have to do it anymore. You're right; it IS scary. The water's practically impossible to see in for humans at night, but you don't even WANT to use your flashlight, 'cuz you know what you're going to see..."

Memories of your sisters' deaths came back then; the night suddenly felt colder, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. Sam touched the elbow he could reach. "Hey. You don't have to do that anymore, all right? You're a badass--" he said it so matter-of-factly, and you stared "YES," he laughed "you are--but you can be a badass in different kinds of ways now. Not for anybody else; just for you, y'know? And--" he lit a cigarette with a bold wink, since he figured you seemed to like what he was saying "I mean, maybe you can be a badass once in a while for me and everybody else here if this trip goes south, eh?"

You laughed. "Okay. You're right, Sam; thanks." You looked at him. "You're a bad-ass too."

Sam shook his head with a grin. "HA, nice try Y/N, but not like you. You SEEN your high-kicks?"

"Well, I'm a little busy DOING them--"

You were both mid-laugh when the others came up, making it a party now--but Sam found he didn't really mind. He'd gotten his moment, after all--and on this trip, he was hoping there would be dozens more to come.


	29. Chapter 29

Twenty minutes later, you, Chloe, and Sam were all lounging on the boat's bow--you and Sam sitting a little closer together than you would have before. Sully had dropped anchor for the night, and was sitting with the others on deck just a few yards behind your trio, looking at the stars. 

"Hey," Chloe said happily, making you and Sam look over, "smile!" She made a stupid face behind the camera, making you both crack up, and took the candid. The laughter continued for another minute, you and Sam genuinely relaxing, but his laughter quieted a little when you distracted him by laying further back on your elbows mid-laugh. If you two weren't alone, and if he still wasn't feeling wimpy--not to mention worried about how you'd respond--he'd have immediately taken the bait and kissed you. He was already feeling a little more reckless from three beers, anyway...

You sighed happily, smiling. "Ah," you said, grinning and feeling both sets of eyes on you, "I might have to switch to river diving. This is amazing."

"And no sharks," Chloe supplied. You laughed, nodding lightly even though it made you think of the earlier conversation. "No sharks. That is definitely a plus."

"Can I ask--" something in Chloe's voice changed, and Sam glanced between the two of you over a cigarette "what happened to your sisters...was it a fluke, like a freak accident? I mean, most shark attacks are about mistaken identity, right? If you don't want to--"

"No, no, it's fine," you cut her off pleasantly, speaking a little more quietly about the somber topic. "Actually, it was someone else's fault. We had a cage on the boat, since sometimes we'd do cage diving for studies instead of free-diving, and there was this guy--" you sighed. "An older man; he paid us to take him out. He knew Jameson, and had been asking him to find someone genuine to dive with; he didn't want something touristy. And" you swallowed, and Sam's eyes went to your throat for a second, growing both more aroused and more concerned "he specifically wanted private."

You sat up further, sensing that the others behind you were now listening too. The river sky seemed so nice...it was strange to talk about something so miserable underneath it. But, you figured, you'd done the same thing in Malaysia...

"When we got out there, everything was going well." You said it almost defensively, Sam's eyes intent on your face, cigarette forgotten. "We had several twenty-footer great whites in the area; he'd specifically asked to go to Shark Alley, around the Cape. Tours don't usually go there, especially not in a boat our size. It's too dangerous. But it was a lot of money, and we'd already done plenty of research and dives out there anyway. The dive was going perfectly fine; the man was an American, sweet and jolly. We called him Santa Claus," you laughed faintly. "He was having fun watching from behind the bars while Penny filmed and Ruby and I free-dived around him with the sharks. But then--" you shifted and looked at Sam. "Penny was taking video, and Ruby and I had just gone up to the surface for air--"

Sam's eyes started to look sad as they met yours. 

"He got out of the cage."

"Jesus," Chloe said quietly. You smiled bitterly. "It was a blood bath; he went straight for the biggest sharks, provoking them in all the ways we'd taught him not to do. That's when we realized he--he WANTED to die." You looked out over the water again. "We were accidentally assisting in a suicide." 

There was silence for a moment. "Anyway, with a blood frenzy started, all we could do was try to hang back and get out of the water--but--" your mouth quivered for a second. "they got Penny first, then Ruby and I panicked, then--" You regained control of yourself. "I almost got her out, I almost managed to guide Ruby out, but it was all a cloud of blood and I could barely see--and then she was just...ripped right away from me again. Both of them, and him, gone." 

Your mouth quivered again, and you blinked hard before straightening up more from sitting. "I managed to get back on the boat, and call for help, and I bullied the rescue team into doing a thorough search even though we all knew the outcome...and that was it. They were gone, just like that." 

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Chloe said sadly. "That's so horrible."

You shrugged. "Thanks." You glanced at Sam, but his eyes held more than you could handle, so you only held the gaze for a moment before looking away. "Anyway, turns out the man had a terminal illness--one that he'd managed to hide, from Jameson as well. His family was devastated, too, also in South Africa--he'd brought them along. Supposed to be a vacation." You laughed wetly, visibly trying to shake it off. "But hey," you ran another hand through your hair, regrouping "nothing to be done about it now, I suppose. And so to answer your question, Chloe, yes it was a fluke. But no, it was not an accident. Not on his part."

"That's some tough stuff, sweetheart," Sully said soberly. You sighed. "Hey, we've all had bad things happen, right? Who knows--" you turned and smiled at him. "Maybe we'll run into some exotic river-sharks here and this will all be a total disaster!" 

"OH my God," Chloe gaped. "If there are such a thing as river-sharks I'm gonna have to abandon this boat."

"And what?" Nadine laughed, relieved as the conversation started taking a happier turn. "Walk through the desert all alone?"

"Course not! I'd drag you with me!" 

"I'm not scared, Chloe. I've gone swimming in water with piranhas!"

"I still don't believe you about that."

"Me neither," Nate piped in. Nadine threw up her hands as everyone laughed. "It's TRUE! In Peru!"

"What were you doing in Peru?" you asked, turning over to be laying their way. Sam and Chloe shifted to do the same, and Sam again found himself consciously thinking NOT to kiss you as you moved. 

"This woman, Lara Croft--you've heard of her?"

You perked up. "Actually, yes. She came in the restaurant a few times. She was sweet--and she liked food with lots of spices."

Nadine laughed. "That sounds like her. She loves ceviche, too. Anyway, she'd gotten into a bit of trouble with this man called Dr. Dominguez..."

The night went on with stories, snacks, drinks, and jokes...and by the time everyone was heading to bed, you were all in good spirits. 

Sam was feeling particularly happy now as he pulled Chloe aside, right before turning in. "Hey, Chloe, can you send me that picture?"

Chloe grinned. "Yeah. You gorgeous kids came out great! But" she smirked "are you sure you know how to WORK it--"

"I've gotten BETTER with technology, thank you very much," Sam snapped. "Nathan's been teachin' me."

"Mhm. Here ya go." Sam blinked down at his phone. "Wow. That was fast."

"Yep! Nite!" She headed into the girls' bunks--where Sam definitely did NOT think about you being in there currently snuggled up sleeping, or about how it would feel to be in there TOGETHER, or about his memory of your ass in that suit or the time in Malaysia that your breasts had moved as you panted--

He gulped and reddened, even though he was alone now, and looked at the picture. It WAS good; you were both genuinely laughing and positively beaming--you were smiling at Chloe behind the camera, but it was obvious from Sam's smile and his eyes that he was actually looking at you. 

Sam stared at it, smiling. He wanted to show you--but there was no way you wouldn't see how he felt if you looked at this picture. So for now, he kept it a secret.

And maybe, just maybe, stared at it for the next hour in bed until Sullivan grumbled about the light keeping him awake and made him stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shark plot is inspired a bit by the movie Dark Tide, by the way. :) Thanks for reading! I know this is a slow-burn, but it'll be worth it, I swear ;)
> 
> If you like the Lara Croft references, check out my two Lara works :) And if you want to better visualize my Reader and Sam's photo, check out my post about it at the following link on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/thorinsgang/180898092840


	30. Chapter 30

Someone bumped into you in the market's crowd, and Sam immediately pulled you a little closer. 

"Y/N, you all right?" he asked quickly, and you didn't miss the way that his eyes narrowed just for a second towards the guy who'd bumped you--a teenage boy who'd most definitely 'bumped' on purpose because he was staring. With your height, and your looks, Sam couldn't blame everyone for noticing you--but it sure didn't help his hating it, and he was pretty sure he was going to smack one of 'em if he didn't get out you of this crowd soon. 

"Fine," you said happily, continuing forward with a relaxed smile that was meant to calm Sam down--even if his protective, jealous move WAS becoming a turn-on. The shock of your aroused feelings back in Malaysia had worn off since then, and now that you'd been spending more and more time with him, feeling lustful around Samuel Drake was an everyday occurrence. Every minute, actually...

Nathan waved from up ahead, and you and Sam followed. The others had elected to stay on the boat once it had arrived in Labezanga, so it was now just the three of you on a day trip into town to find Nathan's friend. 

"C'mon," Nate said cheerfully, gesturing, "Indigwe's place is somewhere in this neighborhood."

It only took a few more minutes--and some impressive French translating by Nathan; you managed to get by with some basics of the language, and Sam's skill with French was actually passable (as well as being ANOTHER turn-on) --before Indigwe's home was found...and just a few MORE minutes before your trio learned that he was dead.

Nathan's face fell as the old woman explained, and Sam instantly stepped over to give him a hug. "SHIT, I'm so sorry, little brother," he said earnestly, sounding sad. Indigwe hadn't been a close friend, but he knew his brother really valued all friendships. Nathan still looked shell-shocked, and tremulously tried to regroup. "What happened??" He sounded so young, so confused and helpless, that Sam's protectiveness swelled. He hugged Nathan tighter, concerned, and your heart fluttered with pity and emotion at the bittersweet sight. 

The old woman explained, briefly; Indigwe had gotten very sick, very suddenly. And he wasn't the only one; a mysterious, vicious disease was quickly becoming prevalent in Mali, particularly for anyone who had recently visited the countryside. 

Nathan blinked, hard, and Sam for once stayed quiet, worried about him. Sensing that they needed a moment alone, you shifted to get the woman's focus over to you instead. "Are there any doctors helping?" you asked in a rudimentary translation, hearing Sam murmur to Nathan in the background. The woman nodded. "There is one," she managed despairingly. "A woman; a good woman, a kind woman. From the W.H.O. Her name is Dr. Rohaz."

"Where is she?" you asked, wanting the information but not really having a reason why. "She is over near the docks; she is leaving soon for the countryside with a guide, to find the source."

Nathan had stepped outside, obviously wanting to be alone, and Sam barely restrained himself from following him before reluctantly tuning back into the conversation. "That's Tuareg country," he said now, concerned. The woman nodded, eyes grim. 

Nathan popped back in suddenly, wearing a facial expression that Samuel recognized immediately. His brother had an idea--and when Nathan was onto something, he looked incredibly like a happy bloodhound. 

"Sam!" he said quickly, already heading somewhere, "c'mon--you hear that?"

You and Sam followed, hastily saying a kind goodbye to the woman before catching up under the hot sun and melting into another crowd. "Nathan, what??" Sam asked, relieved that his brother had a distraction but curious. 

"Listen!" Nate said excitedly, "the mosque!!"

You both heard it then; the call to prayer. But why was Nathan--

"Archives!" Nate shouted back to Sam vaguely, making headway. "They'll have archives!"

You and Sam smiled at each other as you realized Nathan was right; Indigwe's information had died with him, so it really was a 'dead' end, and the next best place to look would be historical texts. 

But as the two of you followed, you found yourself scanning the crowd further, wondering how many of them were about to be sick. You had a deep, unsettling feeling in your core, and Sam--as usual--read your face easily to see your unease and wondered why. 

"Y'okay?" he asked--but was cut off as the three of you arrived. "C'mon!" Nathan said hurriedly, leading the way inside and just barely managing to gain control of himself enough not to disturb the people at prayer. Ten minutes later--mostly thanks to Nathan's charm--you were all downstairs, being shown some old scrolls by a man who had blanched when Nathan mentioned the ship. 

Enthralled, Nathan and Sam stared as one of the scrolls was unfurled. It was a historical entry from back in the time of the Civil War, and featured the brief mention of, of all things, "a great black metal ship, drifting in the river--and bringing death with it where it led."

"It is a ghost ship," the man said now, having finished reading it and stepping back nervously, "a CURSED ship."

You were discomfited by the man's sentence, but it didn't take a genius to see the thrill on the Drake brothers' faces and know that they weren't stopping now. Cursed ship or not, this text was a lucky break--and the Drakes were like dogs with a bone.


	31. Chapter 31

"'CURSED' ship? Well, that could just be referring to diseases," Sully said, everyone back on the boat now half an hour later. "The native people here would've been susceptible to any new illnesses brought over by the Virginians. Could certainly have seemed like a curse at the time."

"True," Nathan said thoughtfully, "and I think you might be right about that."

"So let's go!"

"There's just one little hiccup," Sam said tentatively, looking like a kid about to be in trouble. Sully sat further up. "It's sort of kind of going to require us to go into Tuareg country." 

Sully glowered. "That is not a LITTLE HICCUP, Sam," he grumbled. You met the others' glances nervously. Half of Mali was controlled by the government; the other, by rebellious and dangerous warlords called Tuaregs. You thought again of the doctor, and how brave she was for heading into the territory with almost no protection. A W.H.O. doctor would most definitely make a good ransom--if she made it far enough to be kept alive at all. 

"I know," Nathan said, placating Sullivan. "It's really not ideal. But--" he pointed at the map excitedly "that's where the ship is, Sully! We HAVE to go!"

"And with room to spare, I hope." The voice made all your heads turn, to see a beautiful Spanish woman standing on dock. She was dressed in official khakis, carrying a duffel, and you wouldn't have needed to see the logo on her shirt to know that she was the doctor. 

"Those men" she gestured to the section of the pier where men were fueling ships "told me that you just bought enough fuel to go upriver--I need to go there, too, and my guide has just bailed. Please," she said, sounding firm but a little desperate "I'm a doctor, and people are dying. I NEED to get into Tuareg country--I don't need to know how you plan to survive there, or why. I just need a ride. The W.H.O. can pay you later for your trouble."

Sully was already shaking his head, but Nate rapped him on the chest. "Sully, she's trying to figure out what killed my friend." Nate looked more serious than he usually did, and Sully relented with a sigh. Nate smiled at Dr. Rohaz. "Come on in." 

Chloe glanced over at Sam, expecting him to ogle the doctor at least a little--but Sam had eyes only for you, and was already moving to see if you wanted something to drink. You accepted, laughing at one of his corny jokes, and watched the doctor come aboard; the tension you'd been feeling eased, since you were now helping find a medical solution. 

Then Sam's hand brushed across your lower back as he returned with your beer, and the entirely different and more pleasurable kind of tension returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take long for the boat trip to restart, or for Dr. Rohaz to settle in. She was a calm and confident woman, but also surprisingly funny as well--and she took to Chloe right away, but to Nadine's displeasure. Chloe, sensing her girlfriend's jealousy, was quick to start nuzzling her for affection over dinner--and whispering a few naughty things she was going to do to her when they got some time alone, as well. Convinced and buttered-up, Nadine relaxed more, and it wasn't long before the two equally smart, driven women became friends. 

Chloe smiled as she watched them chat, and stepped away for a minute to get some more drinks. Dr. Rohaz nudged Nadine where they sat, nodding towards a spot further up on deck where you and Sam were sitting. Sam was regaling you with another one of his funny tales, both of you laughing hard and giggling. 

"So," the doctor said, smiling, "they are together, right?"

Nadine raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Not YET they aren't. It's slow going with that one." She gestured towards Sam, unable to help mocking him. "You have no idea how long it took him to get up the composure and courage to talk to her. It was actually quite hilarious for a time."

"Tell me." The doctor's eyes lit up in good humor, and if you hadn't been so busy having fun with Sam all night, you would have wondered what the trio of laughing women over there had to say. But you WERE busy having fun, and Sam's eyes glowed particularly glittery and golden-y and hazel in the African desert's nights--so you couldn't care less what they said. 

And Sam found himself once again wishing the two of you had the boat to yourselves.


	32. Chapter 32

"So how far is Gao?" Elena asked, readying her bags. Sully glanced over from where he was steering, you and the others all lounging around on the ship's deck. The map was splayed out next to him, displaying a starred marker for the upriver location where the ship had long ago been sighted. Gao was a city now, but it was still at the right location in the Niger River. Sam and Nathan had been over the moon about the new lead, even though Nate was still a little down after the bad news about his friend. 

"Not far now. Probably just a couple more hours away. But remember, we're dropping off Dr. Rohaz at Asselar first." Asselar was a small village where another victim of the illness had been reported, and Dr. Rohaz was anxious to check on him.

"So, doctor," you asked, tying your shoelaces from nearby where you sat, the side of your thigh touching Sam's and giving you both more of that buzzy tingly feeling "do you have any theories about what's causing this outbreak?"

The doctor sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure. But I do know that SOMETHING is causing this disease, and that 'something' is coming directly from this section of Mali. This is where all of the victims had traveled before returning to their homes ill." 

"Doesn't sound like a coincidence," Chloe said, sounding serious for once. 

Dr. Rohaz shook her head. "No. It most certainly doesn't." She stood up and rolled her shoulders with an arch of her back, and once again the others noticed that Sam didn't even look. Nate blinked, impressed. The doctor was certainly gorgeous--but Sam clearly had eyes only for you, and he was very busy trying to savor the feeling of your thigh against his. Far too busy to notice some beautiful Spanish physician. 

"Well," said doctor mused, stretching more as she looked at the shoreline to try to spot the village, "First step, after treating the patient as best I can, will be to test the water. It's one of the only things that could be a medium for such a disease, and be so widespread across an entire section of a country."

"Sounds like a plan." Sully nodded towards the shore, where buildings were starting to show. "And perfect timing; we're here." 

Sam looked your way as the doctor started to dismount from the boat and make her way ashore, water soaking the bottom half of her khakis while Nathan and Elena joined her to carry some supplies. Your gaze was lingering on the woman and the village, and he gently nudged your side. "Hey."

"Hm?" You looked over, questioning. His eyes met yours. "You've been subdued ever since you learned about this disease." He nodded in the village's direction. "You're pretty worried about this, huh."

You considered him, touched and impressed by his perceptiveness. "I...well," you sighed. "Yes. I don't know...I just, you know--thinking of all those people--"

"Seems a little selfish to be treasure hunting when there's a plague?" Sam looked somber. "I'm feeling it, too. Nathan and I have done treasure hunts in lots of places in the world where there's bigger and worse things going on. I know it sucks." He suddenly smiled and elbowed you again. "And YOU, Y/N, happen to be a woman with a hell of a hero complex. You want to help them, don't you."

You nodded, and Sam shrugged. "So let's go! C'mon, let's catch up and at least see if we can be of some use while we're in this village."

You smiled, relieved. "Yeah. Good idea." 

Sam helped you down from the boat to hop into the brown muddy water, and you tried not to blush at the gentlemanly way he held your hand as you waded forward. But all romantic thoughts fled as soon as you made it to the huts on shore. 

"Guys...?" Sam asked. Elena and Nate turned, looking somber, and you watched as the doctor emerged from the first hut, face fallen in despair. 

"They're all dead," she said, sounding at a loss. "They're all...dead."

"Jesus. All of them?" Sam asked gingerly. "I thought....there was only one sick patient here."

"It must have spread." Dr. Rohaz ran a hand through her hair. "And there's...there's a pile of bodies behind these buildings, a mass grave. Whoever survived must have left too quickly to bury them."

"Oh my God," Elena murmured sadly. Nathan sighed, thinking again of his friend. "What...what can we do?"

The doctor suddenly looked stubborn. "We check that water, just as planned." She nodded to the left. "The well is over there." 

Ten minutes later, it had been discovered that the well was filled in. "It must be the water then," Eva Rohaz said thoughtfully. "These people knew the water was making them sick." Now a rope and makeshift harness were ready for somebody to be lowered down--and you'd decided that that somebody was going to be you. The doctor looked white as a sheet, and after seeing the pile of dead, the others didn't look much better. Sam instantly volunteered to belay you, the pounding in his chest telling him that he wouldn't be able to relax unless he was the one in charge of your safety. 

"Okay, Y/N, let's go really slow," he called down as you started to delicately rappel. The well wasn't THAT deep, but it was deep enough for the filled-in bottom to be too dark for visibility, and that was scary enough for him. From his view, it looked a lot like his girl was about to be lowered right down into a black hole...

"Okay, Sam," you said with a little laugh. "Don't worry so much, I'm fine--"

It was then that you heard the gunshots.


	33. Chapter 33

Sam felt the hit in his arm as solidly as a punch, and was knocked clear to the ground. You instantly started to plummet, landing hard at the bottom of the well with a cry of pain, the air knocked out of your lungs. Gasping, you started to lift yourself back up to stand--eyes focused up above on the well's entrance the entire time, because those gunshots-and now panicked shouts--were still continuing. 

"Sam?!" You cried. "Sam!!"

A glance at his arm had revealed the bullet wound and blood, but Sam's next thought had instantly been back to the girl he'd just dropped, and he started getting upright again--only to be butted straight in the face with the back of a rifle, falling back with a cry of pain. Shouts in French punctuated the blow as the man--in military uniform, Sam vaguely noticed--switched his gun back to the shooting end and aimed--

Nate rammed into the man from the side, shoving him away from his big brother. "Not today, asshole!" He yelled as he slammed into the man again. Nate had the shoulders of a linebacker, and Sam proudly knew that the man didn't stand a chance. He stood back up as Nate continued to assault the enemy with the force of a battering ram. 

"Maybe I should've taken up football," Nathan joked breathily as he knocked the man out and stole his gun. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks little brother! Help me get Y/N back up--Y/N! You okay??" Sam's chest heaved a sigh of relief, despite the adrenaline, when he heard you say "Yes, I'm fine". "--wait, where're the others--" Sam suddenly asked as he and Nathan pulled. 

"Elena got to cover with the doctor, the others are being shot at on the boat--"

"Guys, leave me!!" You called, hearing Sam and Nate's shouted conversation as they yelled to each other over the still-constant gunshots. "Help them, come back for me later!"

"You sure??" Sam sounded guilty already. 

"Yes! Go!" You leaned against the side of the well, preparing for a stressful wait while they did their thing. 

"Sam, c'mon!"

"Y/N, I'll be RIGHT back--"

"Sam, it's fine, GO!"

With a groan and a grunt of pain, face bloodied and arm bleeding, Sam ran with his brother. 

"Elena, you good?" Nate called worriedly. Elena and the doctor were huddled behind a stone wall, and Elena was using her gun. "Yes! Help them on the boat--they're being attacked from the side! Try to get around behind them!"

"Right. Doctor, are you oka--"

The doctor let off a rattling round of machine-gun fire, sporting a gaze of steel. Nate and Sam blinked, and Elena grinned. "Like I said, we're good."

Sam glanced back at the abandoned well again, worrying about you, but Nate yanked his focus away. "Sam, come on!"

As it turned out, Sully and Chloe DID need help. Nadine had left the boat and made a quick swim for it to get to the shoreline, and was now making quick work of the soldiers that were firing on them from the upper right. But that still left the rest of the shoreline, where a surprising number of soldiers had somehow arrived out of nowhere and were pinning down the boat's residents. 

Elena was right; the soldiers didn't expect to be fired at from the direction of the village, and it was only a few more gunfire-filled minutes--the blood drying on Sam's face and itching like crazy, while his arm started to feel the shot's burn--before the shoreline was silent again. 

"Everyone all right out there?" Nate called to the others on the boat. Chloe gave a cheerful wave. "Yes, thanks to you! Nadine?"

"I'm fine, babe," Nadine responded, soaking wet from her swim and too distracted by the fight to realize that she'd used a pet name in front of witnesses. Her pride would scold her for it later, Sam figured as he started heading back towards the well. 

"Here." Elena showed up beside him, catching up from their hiding place with the doctor. "I'll help you pull Y/N up." 

"Y/N? You still okay down there?"

You grinned; your body was starting to really ache from the fall, and from the tension of listening to shouts and fights without knowing who was winning. Relief rapidly sank in. "I'm fine. Is everyone okay now?"

"Yes. Listen, we're gonna pull you up."

"Okay--wait!" You reached in your pocket for the test tubes. "Wait, let me get the water sample first." Using the little trowel from the doctor, you dug into the ground until water began to seep through. Filling the vials only took a few moments, but Sam stayed tense until you were being lifted up again. 

"Sam, let me do that." Nate was back now. "Your arm--"

"Nope," Sam grunted. His arm DID hurt, and a shot arm was NOT meant for rope pulling, but this was his Y/N he was lifting. No way was he stopping now.

With a final heave, you were pulled up--and could feel Sam's arms wrapping around your lower back to bodily lift you out of the well before you were even fully ready to be. 

"Sam, relax, I'm okay--"

The older Drake brother persisted anyway, lifting you all the way out, and you were fighting the urge to kiss and hug him when you saw the blood. "Oh my God, Sam, you're hurt." 

Sam couldn't ignore the way his heart fluttered at the sweet concern in your voice, and laughed sheepishly. "Eh, I've had worse."

"Looks like a graze," Elena said, eyeing his arm. "Let's go get everybody cleaned up--and Dr. Rohaz, let's get a look at those samples."

"Yes, the doctor said, face grim, "let's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I've updated; thank you all so much for being so patient! Not just with me but also with this hell of a slow-burn romance ;)


	34. Chapter 34

"I don't understand," Chloe said, looking confused, "what the hell are the MILITARY doing with all of this?"

"I don't know," the doctor said, testing her samples as everyone recovered back on the boat. Sully, eager to get moving, had already started driving further to Gao. "Why would a country's own military be propagating and hiding a plague that hurts their own people--if that really is what's going on?" he asked from the cockpit. 

"Well," you said, "we can't assume that those men are actually from the LEGITIMATE military. Many African nations have corrupt military leaders," you said, handing Elena supplies as she gently tended to Sam's wound. Sam flinched a little, but kept his gaze on you the entire time. "They might be wearing the uniforms of the government's militia, but they could very well be answering to only one man within the government."

"So there's probably a head villain who's got some bizarre messed-up reason for this plague," Nate surmised. 

"Maybe it's an effort to destroy the Tuaregs?" Nadine asked, bringing up food from below. Everyone else was exhausted from the battle, but she was invigorated and bordering on perky. "You know, viewing the loss of innocent citizens as an unfortunate necessity since it also means bringing down the rebels? Their people need water too, after all."

"My God." Everyone turned to look at the doctor, who stared at the now blood-red liquid in the test tube. She looked up. "It's a poison."

"Poison?" Sam looked unnerved. "You mean someone's ACTUALLY trying to POISON everyone?"

She shrugged, looking shell-shocked. "I...I don't know yet. But this water...'toxic' doesn't even begin to cover it. There should be a new word for how unsafe and lethal this water is." She stood up suddenly. "Nate, can you show me how to use the boat phone? I need to call W.H.O. authorities. This is something serious."

"Sam, take the wheel." Sully stepped back. "I'm going to call some of my African contacts, see if they know about anyone corrupt who's calling the shots in Mali." 

"But my arm--" Sam protested, mostly just eager to keep sitting with you. But Sully wasn't having it. "Arm-schmarm, take the wheel."

"Would Jameson know anyone?" Elena asked, and you shrugged as Sam reluctantly took Sully's place. "Mali is a long way from South Africa...but it's worth asking." 

"In lighter news," Chloe asked, sitting beside you, "I take it you're still not missing those sharks down there."

You laughed a little, feeling Sam's affectionate gaze grow warmer at hearing your laugh. You were really starting to get used to the attention from him--and starting to crave it. "Nope, definitely not. Gunshots are replacing them, I guess."

"Judging by Jameson's less-than-savory restaurant guests, I'm guessing you're not unfamiliar with guns," Nadine asked, passing out sandwiches. You nodded. "I'm not."

"Ever fired one? I know that you've got some self-defense and combat training, but--"

"I have," you said faintly. Sam's attention sharpened, sensing your discomfort. 

Nadine looked curious. "In an emergency?"

"During our escape from Conniptia--my sisters and I. I...I'm guessing the two of you already know where that country is." You glanced at Sam now with a rueful smile, trying to let him know it was all right that the others knew. He relaxed upon seeing the smile. It wasn't like he'd told, anyway; Nadine had seen the scars herself, and put two and two together. 

Nadine and Chloe didn't deny it, both nodding sadly. The memories of gunfire, of leading your sisters to safety...of shooting a man with buckshot straight through the chest to get to the boat--

You shook it off, visibly regrouping and taking a sandwich. "So yes," you said, taking a bite. "I've already fired a gun."

"Well, you'll probably have to again," Sully said, peeking out from belowdecks on his cellphone. "I'm already getting some bad chatter about a General Kazim."

"Well, that sounds fun," Chloe said brightly. "Let's go see Mr. Bad Chatter and find out what he has to say."

You shifted in your seat, feeling your body ache, and suddenly had the urge to lay down. Stretching out on one of the spare boat lounges, you pushed all thoughts of Conniptia and dead bodies from your mind with a delicate yawn. 

And Samuel Drake struggled to focus on driving as he watched you fall asleep.


End file.
